Nine Times Percy Saved a Friend
by Liana Legaspi
Summary: ...And the One Time They Saved Him. 5: "Don't be an idiot, Percy," she said but her voice was trembling. "You've gone through all that, defied every single prophecy that said you'd die like the irritating little upstart you are, to just give up now?" He pointed it away from his head casually, grinning. "Don't be an idiot, Thalia," he mimicked. "I wasn't going to pull the trigger."
1. Thalia and Nico

**Thalia**

In short, Thalia didn't like Percy.

By all means, she should've loved him. After all, he was the only one who didn't stand there gawking like an idiot when she came back to life. Chiron thought that her animosity toward Percy "stemmed from the eon old Zeus-Poseidon rivalry." Thalia gagged at that. Percy could go ahead and be like his old man as much as he wanted, but Thalia was _not _her father.

Then Annabeth, in all her daughter of Athena glory, deduced that the two children of the Big Three didn't get along because they were toomuch alike. Thalia had waited patiently for her friend to take it back, but when she didn't, the daughter of Zeus had the sudden urge to zap the girl with lightning. Being told she was like the Seaweed Brain, as Annabeth so accurately put it, was in even bigger wound on her ego than being told she was like her dad.

Percy just wasn't…bright? Powerful? A hero? Whatever he was, Thalia wasn't impressed. Maybe it was the headache talking, but she just didn't see what was so great about Percy.

He was unpredictable. He was so stubborn that even _she _gave into him sometimes. Thalia always came so, so _close _to making him lose his temper and then he'd just suddenly calmed in a blink. Everyone followed Percy as often as her, sometimes more. But worst of all, Annabeth relied more Percy than she did on anyone else. Annabeth Chase, the little girl who ran away, who wouldn't let anyone other than Luke and Thalia in, _trusted _Percy with more than just her life.

When they played Capture the Flag last Friday, it was like a slap in the face when her best friend asked Percy to cover her back instead of Thalia. _Gods_, she was a daughter of Athena and he was a son of Poseidon, they weren't even supposed to _like _each other, let alone make goo-goo eyes at each other's backs.

Nausea overcame Thalia, and she leaned over her bed just in time. She groaned and closed her eyes, resting her forehead on a shaky, sweaty arm. Will Solace told her that the headaches were a side effect of either being poisoned or being transformed. Whichever one it was, nectar and ambrosia didn't help any. Ha, and Percy was the one who thought it would.

So yes, frankly, Thalia did _not _like Percy, and everyone knew it. So what in Hades was he doing in _her _cabin, holding her hair back as she emptied her guts? Again.

Thalia sloppily wiped her mouth with her wrist and glared at him. She knew she probably looked like a slob and as intimating as a satyr, but seriously, what was he doing in Cabin 1? According to most campers, he had knack for doing the most impulsive and stupid things, but Thalia didn't know he had a death wish.

…Actually, that was okay with her.

"What are you doing in my cabin," she asked, trying to sound aggravated but the way her words slurred together ruined it. Gods, she sounded like Mr. D.

Percy shrugged. "Smelled like something died in here."

"Har har," Thalia snapped. She would've made a comment on how amazed she was that he could smell anything passed his own stench, but another wave of dizziness hit her. This time Thalia didn't even make it over the edge of her bed.

Percy's nose crinkled and he looked like he was trying not to vomit himself. Typical. He had one of _those _stomachs. "Ew," he put so eloquently.

"Shut u-u-up," Thalia groaned miserably. Puke stained her shirt, and okay, yeah, she smelled _really _bad. She wished she could just go die in a hole right about now. And where in Tartarus was Annabeth?! She'd chop off her foot to be with her best friend rather than _Percy_.

The son of Poseidon's hand left her unbearably hot forehead, and she almost whimpered at the loss of the cool sensation. Almost, thank gods she didn't. Now that would've been just as embarrassing as puking on herself in front of him. Percy mumbled a quick "be right back" and jogged out the door.

Thalia moaned and flopped over onto her stomach without thinking, and she screamed in frustration when she realized her mistake. Her originally white sheets were now stained green and orange and looked like someone tried to do barf art on it. Attractive. _Gods_, what did she _eat_?

The daughter of Zeus closed her eyes. _I hate my life_, Thalia thought, not for the first time, unsurprisingly. She'd die alone, covered in her own vomit, smelling like death, and bathing in her own sweat. Somehow that sounded less heroic than sacrificing herself for Annabeth and Luke. Luke…

Thalia scowled and tugged at her soggy shirt miserably. Thinking about Luke just gave her even more of a headache. One minute she was dying for a boy she trusted more than herself, who she ran around the country with, who she thought of as…well, _more _than just a friend. The next, Thalia was told that Luke had become an insane, conniving minion of Kronos. A traitor. Hal was right.

She sighed a little and stared up at the ceiling. That was what the Camp thought, not her. They didn't know the whole story; they didn't know Luke. They didn't know what he had to deal with when he was just a little kid, what his father _made _him deal with. If the Camp did, they wouldn't blame Luke for a second.

_But_, she thought in the back of her mind, _five years is a long time. Enough time to change_. Thalia bit her lip. She knew Luke had daddy issues, practically every demigod had at least one problem with their godly parent, but would he take his personal problems so far as to betray _everyone_? Betray Annabeth and her? Really?

Maybe the stress of reality was finally getting to her or maybe it was the fact that she felt like road kill, but Thalia Grace, for the first time in a very long while, started to cry. Tears trickled down her pale face and sobs, hiccups, and coughs racked her body. If Luke were there he'd rub her back and whisper soothing, comforting words that'd make her feel warm and tingly on the inside, but he. Left. Her.

Thalia lunged out of her bed to rip a picture off of its tack. It was taken in an abandoned, pest-infested warehouse that smelled like seafood, but it was one of her favorites. Annabeth had already joined their little group when it was taken, but only Luke was in it.

He had been exhausted, taking every watch and protecting his surrogate family tended to do that to someone. Luke's temper had come close to reaching its boiling point on multiple occasions and he had been getting short with both her and Annabeth. Not to mention he was getting so sloppy he almost let a monster get the jump on him. Needless to say, Thalia and he had a fight while Annabeth watched sadly from a corner. One look into her teary, big grey eyes and Luke gave into his girls which resulted in him _finally _getting a good night's rest.

He had looked so peaceful at the time. His worry lines were absent and his face and posture weren't so tense, and Luke actually _looked _like a fourteen year-old. So yeah, Thalia snapped a picture on a stolen disposable camera (what? They needed _some _good memories in her life) and kept it ever since. She even went so far as to print it out and pin it up near her bed.

Thalia grit her teeth and her black nails ripped little holes into the photo. With an angry, bloodthirsty scream the daughter of Zeus ripped it to shreds, tears running down her face and mixing with her bile. When her work was finished and there was absolutely no way the stupid picture could ever be repaired, Thalia stumbled to her father's statue and bared her teeth at it. "You," she seethed. "This is _your _fault. You've done this to me."

Everything was gone. Luke was a traitor, Jason was dead, and Annabeth was all grown up and _obviously _didn't want anything to do with her in favor of a stupid, stupid boy.

The daughter of Zeus clawed at the statue's feet and stared up into its solid gold eyes. "I wish you'd just let me die," Thalia hissed. She beat the ground and roared terrifyingly enough to make the Minotaur proud. Only problem was that Percy already killed it. Of course. Percy Jackson, the leader of Camp Half-Blood, the infamous hero, Mr. Save-the-World, the _freaking replacement of Luke Castellan_. And the worst part? He was _better _than Luke and better than her, and everyone knew it.

Thalia punched the statue and she heard tiny cracks before pain erupted in her fingers. She growled and moved to punch her father's golden shin again but this time hands grabbed her shoulders. "Thalia!" Speak of the devil.

The girl tried to shake him off, but Percy wouldn't let go. "I hate you," she said miserably, falling back into the son of Poseidon's arms. Thalia wasn't completely sure if she was referring to Zeus or Percy, but it didn't completely matter to her. She hated both of them right now.

She could feel him swallow a little. "Yeah," he said uncertainly. "Noted."

Thalia struggled against him and tried to kick his soft spot but Percy just held on tighter. "Hey, it's okay," he soothed, like he was talking to a horse, something which Thalia found extremely offensive. "Come on, let me see your hand."

The daughter of Zeus miserably let the boy half-drag, half-carry her to a different bed with new, fresh sheets. At least he wasn't too much of a Kelp Head to think of that. Haha, Kelp Head. Percy carefully lowered (dropped) Thalia onto the bed, and she frowned at the ice cream. Neapolitan. She took it back, the boy _was _an idiot.

Percy folded the damp cloth and pressed it to Thalia's head before handing her a spoon. She raised an eyebrow at it. "Ice cream?" she deadpanned.

Percy shrugged and yanked the ice cream bucket open, wincing when it cracked. Oh, what a smart one. "It's _ice cream_," he stressed. "I think even you could keep it down."

Thalia scowled. "How'd you even get it?"

The son of Poseidon grinned mischievously, and he set the tub down next to her before taking her damaged fist. "I know a couple of guys."

Thalia held back a wince when he prodded her hand lightly, but Percy caught and said, "I'll get Will, he'll know how to fix it." His green eyes bore into hers and he paused. "Did you" – he nodded toward the statue – "did you really mean what you said?"

Thalia pressed her lips into a thin line and dug her spoon into the vanilla section. "That doesn't concern you," she said coldly.

"Right," Percy mumbled as he gestured for her to lean forward so he could adjusted her pillows. If she didn't feel so emotionally and physically exhausted, she'd make some snide comment on how he probably wished she was Annabeth, but she didn't. And if Thalia was being honest with herself, it was because she felt just a teeny-tiny bit grateful to him. And a little ashamed of herself.

She swallowed her ice cream and watched Percy use his freaky Aquaman powers to clean up her vomit. "Why do you do that?" she demanded.

Not even Luke would be patient enough to deal with her when she was sick. It was a rare occasion for Thalia to not feel well, but whenever she didn't, the son of Hermes would steer clear of her and leave her to her own devices. According to him, Thalia would get a whole lot crankier and needy and just in general a really irritating person to deal with.

Percy frowned a little and furrowed his brows. "Do what?"

Thalia was itching to roll her eyes again, but she refrained. What did everyone see in this guy? "Help people who've got you on their kill list," she stated exasperatedly. "Like, oh, I don't know, say me."

The son of Poseidon searched for words while he fixed her blankets. "I don't know. I just…well, you have been through a lot. I mean, being a tree can't be too great, neither can dying and waking up five years later." _Yeah, no really, Sherlock?_ "And, and Luke," he paused and Thalia coiled like a spring, "I know it doesn't change a thing, but I am sorry for..."

Thalia sunk down into her bed and pressed down on the towel. "Yeah," she said, her voice hard. "Me too."

Percy glanced at her before continuing. "And Annabeth thinks that we could be best friends."

Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "You're kidding."

Percy smiled a little. "Or enemies," he added.

Thalia sighed in relief. "That's more like it." She studied the boy beside her. "You really think highly of her if you think _we _could be BFFs."

He sat beside her on the bed and started digging into the ice cream with his own spoon. "She is a daughter of Athena, you know."

Thalia snorted and catapulted a glop of strawberry onto his shirt. "So that means you do everything she says and stare at her when she's not looking?" Well, Annabeth looked at him a lot too, but there was no need to boost his ego. That was what Chiron was for.

Percy's face became an impressive shade of red and he struggled to clean the pink off of his clothes. "I don't do that," he muttered.

Now she really did roll her eyes. _Oh, boy_, Thalia thought, _I pity you both; what horrors does Aphrodite have in store for you? _"Sure," she agreed, "just like how you calling her 'Wise Girl' isn't flirting."

Now his face matched Drew's lipstick _perfectly_. "It's just a nickname," Percy defended.

Thalia smirked. "Uh-huh."

Percy threw his hands up in the air. "I'm leaving. You're impossible." He hopped off her bed and was half-way to the door when he turned to look at Zeus' statue. "You know he really does love you, right?"

Thalia stared straight ahead at the wall. She didn't know how to answer that.

"He preserved your soul," he insisted. "He didn't want to lose you. Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea—" Thunder boomed in the distance and Percy huffed, annoyed. "But the fact is, you're here now. You're alive and that means he really does care about you." Percy smiled faintly and rubbed the back of head. "Trust me, gods just have funny ways of showing it."

Thalia vaguely recalled a story that Poseidon had sent Percy a cyclops for a brother in order to keep him safe. At the time it sounded weird and lazy, like _Oh, sorry, son. I'm too busy to help you personally, but here, have a half-brother_. But now, it didn't sound so bad.

"Everything's a little crazy right now," Percy said, and Thalia got the impression that it was partially because of her. Yay. "But it'll get better, trust me." Percy grinned at her, and her worries faded a little. And with the right lighting and angle, Thalia could almost see why Annabeth was attracted to him. Sort of.

Needing to maintain her rep, she gave Percy a bored and uninterested look that said _I have no idea what you're talking about_. Then she grabbed her pillow and chucked it at him, doing a fist pump when it made contact with his annoying pretty boy face. "You're still in my cabin," Thalia pointed out.

Percy scowled a little and tossed the pillow to the side. "You know a simple 'Thank you' would work too," he said, shaking his head as he walked away.

Thalia softened a little and let a small, appreciative smile grace her features. "Hey, Percy?" she called quietly.

He didn't turn around. "Yeah?"

"Thanks," Thalia said. And then he stopped to grin at her, eyes twinkling and obnoxiously white teeth shining, but before Percy could respond and say something disgustingly meaningful, she added, "You're still a Kelp Head, cuz."

Percy's grin didn't even falter, and he walked out of Cabin 1 like he had just been told that all the gods didn't hate him anymore. Thalia smirked to herself and shoved a spoonful of chocolate into her mouth. Percy Jackson could be irritating beyond all belief, incredibly stupid, and a bit girly with the pep talks, but maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as bad as she originally thought.

He should by no means be looking into becoming a motivational speaker professionally and the idea of him running some huge company was insane. But if he could comfort Thalia of all people and lead a camp with a bunch of monster-killing, dyslexic, ADHD kids, then Percy couldn't be too bad. Besides if Annabeth Chase trusted him and almost threw away that "Become a Hunter" bulletin for him, then he couldn't be completely worthless.

Thalia pursed her lips. This didn't make a huge difference. Luke was still a traitor, Jason was still dead, and Annabeth still didn't really need her butting in between Percy and hanging around them like a chaperone. But where was the harm in trying to be friends with the son of Poseidon? A lot actually, it would probably cause more chaos than a relationship between him and a certain daughter of Athena would but being enemies wasn't a better solution.

Her mind wandered back to Percy's words, what he said about her father. She bit her lips before closing her eyes. doing something she hadn't done in a long, long time. She prayed to her father, _Thank you_. They were just two simple words, but the thunder in the distance assured her that they were enough. Wow, Kelp Head was right. So Thalia – grudgingly – deep, deep down, started to, just a little, admire Percy.

The daughter of Zeus leaned back and then scowled at the unnatural angle. "Percy!" she called. "Can you give me my pillow back? This isn't comfy anymore!"

The words "_Oh. My. Gods_!" could be heard across Camp.

* * *

**Nico**

Nico wasn't _really_ surprised by this outcome.

He saw it coming from a mile away; the only thing that got him was that there were only four angry demigods who wanted to stuff him into a bag and toss him to the earthborn. He sort of figured that there'd be some mutual animosity towards him because of how he snuck behind each of the Camps' backs and pretty much _let _Hera/Juno have her way.

At first, Nico had a small flicker of hope that maybe the fact that they won and were still alive would be enough for the other demigods to turn a blind eye to what he had done, but being pinned against the climbing wall by a son of Ares kind of killed it.

He was pretty sure the guy's name was Mark and his friends backing him up were his half-brother Sherman, Hayden, son of Hecate, and of course, Drew Tanaka. The little she-devil didn't look like much, just a pretty face, but Nico knew how much power her voice held, and he was actually a teensy bit wary of her. He'd seen what Piper could do, and from what he'd heard, Drew used her charmspeaking very flippantly.

Technically, he could just summon some skeleton warriors – only a few was all he really needed, or he could just rip open a crater in the ground. But despite popular belief and stereotype, Nico didn't kill demigods so summoning was out of the question. And opening up the earth seemed like pouring salt on an open wound. Both camps had lost too many people to Gaea's attacks, and it was just too soon to be demonstrating his terrestrial powers.

Not to mention he _did _feel pretty guilty.

Yeah, everything worked out in the end but lying to Percy's face and keeping his cousin in the dark about his own identity seemed harsh. Even for him. Like always, they'd gotten over any hard feelings. After all, their relationship was always rocky at best, but Nico couldn't help but feel like it was always _his _fault things were so messed up between them.

Hades, _Thalia _was on better terms with the son of Poseidon, and they turned little spats into full out wars that would make their dads tear up with pride. That was pretty sad. Almost as sad as needing to be lifted off the ground about two feet just so Mark could look him in the eye without bending over. So much for growth spurt.

"You're a little traitor," Mark grit out, gripping Nico's shirt so tight his knuckles were turning white. "Sneaking out behind our backs, buddying up with the Romans, telling them all about our weaknesses." Nico swore he just heard a tooth crack. "You're a little rat, you know that? Nothing but a corpse-breath worm."

Nico shrugged as much as he could, bleak face set perfectly in place. "So I've heard," he said flatly.

Mark's eyes flashed, and Nico fought back a wince when the rough, stone wall dug painfully into his skin. "What _did _you tell them?"

The son of Hades clenched his fists. "Nothing."

"I'm having trouble believing that."

Nico glared at him. Idiot. "The Romans aren't our enemies," he started. "They helped us win this war."

Drew barked out a laugh. "_Us_?" she asked mockingly, a small, coy smile playing at her lips. "You're dad's not even an Olympian. He's an outcast." Drew tilted her head a little as if she was inspecting Nico's haircut. "Like you."

The son of Hades's hands started trembling. Maybe just a small, weak skeleton warrior…

Drew's warm, brown eyes softened with sympathy. "Hon, you don't belong with the Romans," she continued, shaking her head emphatically. "But you _definitely _don't belong at Camp Half-Blood. Never have, never will."

Nico's breath hitched.

Hayden nodded in agreement. "Why do you think Cabin 13 didn't even exist until a couple years ago?"

Nico's eyes darkened dangerously, and he furiously swallowed down the lump in his throat. "Look who's talking," he snapped. "At least Hades didn't turn his back on family when it mattered."

As soon as the words left his big mouth, he inwardly winced. _Vlacas_. That was such stupid, stupid move. He could expect that much from Percy, maybe, but at least the son of Poseidon usually had, like, Annabeth or someone to save his butt. He, on the other hand, was on his own.

Hayden's smirk faltered before morphing into a glare. His unnaturally green eyes gleamed with malice, and he stalked toward Nico. Hayden's fingers hummed with energy, and the son of Hades thought his long, girly fingers were glowing green.

Hayden glowered up at Nico. "This isn't the _first _time you've let someone down."

Nico tensed slightly and dug his nails into his palms. Like he didn't know.

_Nico's stomach felt like lead and every gut instinct was screaming at him to just take his cousin to the River Styx to get his stupid curse and hightail it out of there. It was the right thing to do, the smart thing. Not to mention it was what he promised. But he couldn't. He _needed _to know more about his mom. His past._

_Nico sucked a shallow breath and did his best to steel his nerves. He set his shoulders and stared up at Alecto. "I've done what my father asked. Take us to the palace."_

_Next to him, Percy tensed and his hand tightened around Riptide. "Wait a second, Nico. What do you—"_

_Nico bit his lip but looked at the older boy through steely eyes. "I'm afraid this is my new lead, Percy. My father promised me information about my family, but he wants to see you before we try the river." His stance faltered. "I'm sorry."_

_Percy's eyes narrowed, and Nico remembered just why everyone was so afraid of him. "You _tricked _me?" he hissed through his teeth. _

_In a fit of rage, Percy lunged for him, baring his sword, but the Furies were quick. In a blink, Alecto and Tisiphone had Percy dangling sixty feet in the air, unarmed; the worst possible scenario for a son of Poseidon._

"_Oh, don't struggle, honey," Alecto chided, cackling and looking very much like an old witch. Not that he'd tell her that, child of Hades or not, she'd still rake open his face. "I'd hate to drop you."_

_Mrs. O'Leary barked angrily and jumped, trying to help her owner, but Percy was much too high, which was a good thing. If she got in the way, the Furies wouldn't hesitate to get rid of her._

_Megaera hovered him closer to the son of Poseidon. "Tell Mrs. O'Leary to behave."_

_Percy glared at him, and Nico's heart dropped to his stomach. The older boy's gaze was angrier than he'd ever seen and the sharp sting of betrayal lurked underneath it all. This wasn't like the past times they'd been at odds. This time the tables were switched and _Percy _was the one that wanted to kill him. It felt like crap._

"_I don't want her to get hurt, Percy," he forced out. Nico glanced at Hades's palace. "My father is waiting. He just wants to talk."_

_A swirl of emotions crossed Percy's face, and Nico could tell that he was just itching to sick Mrs. O'Leary on him. But he knew better than anyone just what the Furies could do._

_Percy grit his teeth. "Mrs. O'Leary, down!" he ordered. "It's okay, girl!"_

_The hellhound whimpered and turned in circles with her tail and ears sagged._

_The son of Poseidon looked back up to Nico, a perfect death glare in place. "All right, traitor," he growled bitterly. "You've got your prize. Take me to the stupid palace."_

_Nico flinched at his spiteful tone, but it was the T-word that really got him. Corpse-breath, ghost king, zombie boy, etc. those were all normal but _traitor_…_

_Nico's vision got blurry, and he felt like Megaera had dropped him._

* * *

_Only six thoughts had been on his mind lately. Bianca, Thanatos, Hazel, the Doors of Death, Jason, and Percy. That was it, and Nico had no freaking idea what to do about any of them. Seriously, no matter what he did, he either wound up angering Zeus or Hera/Juno or playing right into Gaea's hands or opening up a bottle of girly emotions that he'd rather keep under wraps._

_Frankly, Nico was kind of stuck, and it was getting exhausting. Not to mention the little fact that he'd been sneaking behind everyone's backs and constantly digging a deeper, bigger grave for himself. Gods, he was a little rat._

"_Nico," Bia—Hazel called, snapping him out of his thoughts. "I've brought a friend."_

_Nico turned around and froze like a deer in the headlights. Standing beside his new half-sister was none other than Percy Jackson. Nico's feet started like he was about to make a run for it, and panic rose up in his throat. What in Hades was he supposed to do?_

"_This is Percy," Hazel introduced, and Nico couldn't help but think, _Oh, trust me, I know exactly who he is.

"_He's a good guy."_

Yep.

"_Percy, this is my brother, the son of Pluto."_

_Nico hurriedly composed himself. There were so many things he wanted to say. Tell Percy about who he was. Tell him he didn't belong in Camp Jupiter, that Camp Half-Blood was looking everywhere for him and they missed him. Warn him that he was about to enter yet another Great Prophecy._

_Instead, Nico extended a hand. "Pleased to meet you," he said uncertainly. "I'm Nico di Angelo."_

_That felt a million times worse than lying to the camps._

Hayden smiled bitterly, raising his hand to Nico's temple. "You're—"

"There a problem here?"

The sons of Ares muttered colorful words under breath in sync. Hayden instantly put his hand down like he was caught stealing, and Drew's nose flared a little before she smiled.

The daughter of Aphrodite turned around, and Nico caught the scent of flowers and cotton candy. Not something he'd usually be into but on her it smelled _amazing_. Drew smiled at Percy and said, "Oh, this? We were just—"

Percy ignored her. "Mark, put him down."

The son of Ares finally set Nico on his feet and smoothed down the younger boy's shirt awkwardly.

After giving the idiot a sharp glare, Nico studied his cousin. For the most part, Percy's posture was fairly relaxed, but his set jaw and stormy green eyes told a different story. Percy's gaze settled on him.

"Mind telling me what this is about?"

Nico scowled at the ground. "Nothing." He met the four's eyes evenly. "I was having a little flashback of Tartarus. Hayden fixed it for me." He nodded at them. "I'm good now…. Thanks," he said, not even the slightest bit of sarcasm lacing his words.

The four took their cue and walked off toward the campfire. But Nico could still hear Hayden mumble, "My point exactly."

Percy's lips pressed into a thin line, and Nico knew he didn't buy his act for a second. In the back of his mind, Nico wondered if it was because he'd already told so many lies that distinguishing between truth and deceit was as easy as breathing. Still, Percy let the four scamper passed him before frowning a little at Nico.

"…Was that about the Romans?"

Crap. Nico's irritably twisted his ring. For all Percy's nicknames about his intelligence or lack of it, he was actually smarter than people gave him credit for. Who would've thought?

"Because you know they're wrong," he continued. "You're not a traitor. You did what you had to do, and if you hadn't. Well" – he glanced at the campfire – "none of us would be here." Percy cocked his head. "I think, in that way, you're more of a hero here than anyone else."

An uncomfortable lump settled in his throat, but the son of Hades managed to keep his face perfectly clear. "I am not having a chick-flick moment with you, Percy," Nico deadpanned.

Percy gave him a sour look. "You didn't let me finish. It was all necessary, but Nico di Angelo, I swear if you ever do that again, I _will _stuff you into a sack and throw you to Mrs. O'Leary as a chew toy."

Nico stared him, jaw a little slack, and heart plummeting to his feet. He knew Percy tended to be a little unpredictable and selectively short-tempered, but to actually _hear _him say it out loud…ouch.

But then Percy slung his arm over Nico's shoulders and ruffled his shaggy hair. "But this time…" He grinned down at the younger boy. "…thank you."

Percy's sea green eyes shown with gratitude, and Nico's chest swelled a little. He'd never had an older brother to look up to, to want to impress more than anyone else in the world. But Nico thought that if he did have one, it'd be Percy all the way.

Mentally scarred from life in general and labeled as a traitor to pretty much everyone, well, Nico didn't mind too much. At least this time he had Percy on his side and that was better than anything a son of Hecate could throw at him.

* * *

**Please give me some feedback! Next up is Reyna and Leo.**


	2. Reyna and Leo

**Reyna**

Reyna had done many things in her fairly short life. She'd worked for a powerful sorceress, been kidnapped by pirates, escaped to Camp Jupiter, and become praetor of said camp, but never in her entire life had she felt so…ridiculous? Embarrassed? Honestly, either one would work.

Maybe it was because Reyna had never attended Goode High School – or any _real _school for that matter (C.C.'s Sorceress Academy for Girls didn't really seem quote on quote "normal," neither did the one at New Rome) so she didn't realize what kind of boy Neal really was. When the handsome blond friend of Rachel approached her, asking her to a school dance, she had had no idea that her date wouldn't show.

So Reyna was left alone in the school gymnasium with a bunch of people either:

A). Too immature to even think about socializing with.

B). Too snobby to even politely pretend to listen to (which was _seriously _saying something considering her position among demigods).

C). Too "popular" to even try talking to.

Reyna released a small, rigid breath. Neal was a nice guy. Responsible, charming, sweet…kind of like Jason. And she was honestly looking forward to the evening, something she didn't know was even possible. Reyna was even wearing _makeup _and a _dress _for Jupiter's sake.

She stoically sipped her punch and watched the other couples dance to some boy band. It was always like this, she mused. Other girls got there dream boy, and Reyna got sidelined. It wasn't something to obsess over, she was disappointed, yes, but she wasn't _that _kind of girl.

Some girls worried about getting their cellphones taken away and embarrassing herself in public; Reyna dealt with demigods older and younger than her, treacherous, power hungry augurs, and couldn't break under pressure or show any doubt. A _boy _shouldn't be a huge deal to her, shouldn't affect her so much…but it was.

Jason, Percy, Neal…every guy Reyna was ever attracted to either turned her down right off the bat or led her on, and it hurt. It wasn't about social status or just for the heck of it, Reyna needed someone who she could trust, open up to, who had her back and carry her when she wanted to give up.

Before Jason – before _boys _– Reyna relied solely on Hylla. She was her big sister, the one that solved all her problems and stared down a pirate twice her size for so much as _looking _at her baby sister. It was them against the world and nothing could stop them. Hylla was Reyna's hero and only comfort. So naturally, when Hylla left, Reyna was demoralized. Horrified even.

And then Reyna met Jason. The stiff, disciplined son of Jupiter that grated on Reyna's nerves for reasons she didn't even know. It wasn't a spontaneous thing, in fact, it took her a full year and a quest to finally warm up to him. But when she did, Jason proved to be a brilliant ally and friend, someone she could count on and trust. Over time…maybe something _more_.

But then Venus appeared to her. Her eyes were sympathetic, and she patted Reyna's knee. But neither actions could soften the blow of the goddess's words. _"The son of Jupiter isn't yours to keep, Reyna." _There was more of course but that was the main gist. Reyna and Jason weren't meant to last long, and when the goddess of love was the one to say it, there was really no stopping it. Still, she tried. She truly did. Reyna did her absolute best to hold on, to stay _Reyna and Jason_.

Her whole world flipped when a meddling goddess decided to snatch Jason away from Camp Jupiter, from her, and give her the son of Neptune instead. Everything came crashing down around her – Octavian, the Cohorts, the Senate. And Reyna knew it was childish, but she couldn't help but think, _No! I want the other one – give him back! _

She didn't dare voice her demand (though she was seriously considering), but Juno had given her a steady, commanding look like _Put up with him, and Jason will return._

Needless to say, Reyna took the deal, though she wasn't exactly thrilled by it. Her world completely went into Apocalypse when she realized the son of Neptune was Percy Jackson, the one and only little sea spawn who had destroyed her home and was now _apologizing _for it. Even though he had no memory of ever doing so.

Percy had taken her by surprise. Really, it just a couple of measly little words that didn't alter anything of the past, but they managed to plant a small, irrational, and desperate seed of hope in her. Venus said that Jason wasn't "the one." But here Percy was, powerful and unbeatable yet so alone, lacking.

In hindsight, it was stupid and brash…but yeah. She made a move on Percy Jackson, and he turned her down for a girl he barely remembered. And when the Greek's flying warship landed, Reyna would realize that it was _the _Annabeth Chase. The girl with the clever grey eyes and the blond curly that Reyna once combed and plaited.

It hurt, but she could swallow that. Percy and Annabeth were clearly a team back then, so why not now? Judging from their little reunion, they truly cared about each other. And that was acceptable. Sweet even. However, the brunette hanging off of Jason's arm was not, repeat _not_ okay.

And now Neal…

The daughter of Bellona smiled a ruefully. Well, that was pretty much the sad, pitiful rut that was Reyna's love life. A small, obnoxious "Ahem" snapped Reyna out of her musings, and she felt chiffon brush up against her arm. Her eyes darted up to see a girl with dark skin and hair stare down at her little angrily.

"You're Neal's date, right?" she demanded.

Reyna looked over the girl carefully, gauging her unexplainable temper. "I'm Reyna," she said, polite but not too cold. "And you are?"

The other girl grinned humorlessly, and Reyna wondered just how many whitening strips she used. "I'm Tess."

She noisily chewed her bubble gum as she looked over the daughter of Bellona, and the way Tess gazed at her combined with the noise made Reyna want to squirm in her seat.

After she finished her unconsented scrutiny, she snorted. "No wonder Neal didn't show," Tess idly remarked.

The daughter of Bellona's eyebrow twitched up, and she pursed her lips a little. Well, that was straight to the point. "You're friends with Neal?" Reyna asked, deciding to not rise to the other girl's bait.

Tess popped her gum and inspected her nails. "Ex, actually."

Ah. Well, that explained a lot.

Tess narrowed her eyes at Reyna and loomed over her in an attempt to look menacing. "You just stay away from him," she hissed. "Neal and I have gone through way too much to let some slut come between us. So _back off_ and go chase after some other poor soul."

In just three average-length sentences, Tess accomplished what not many could. Reyna snapped. Blood roared in her ears, and all she saw was red.

_Gone through way too much_, Reyna thought angrily. _Gone through way too much is going on countless, life-threatening quests. It's being told by a love goddess that she didn't approve of your relationship but holding on anyways. It's staying loyal even if he completely shatters your heart and rescuing his ungrateful corpse. It's saving the world together and watching him kiss another girl. It's being happy for him even it kills you more than anything and leaves you more hollow and alone than you have ever been._

Reyna was just about to tell Tess what exactly "too much was" when a lean, muscular arm slung over her shoulders.

"Think you got the wrong girl, Tess," he said, voice light but unique green eyes hard and piercing. "Reyna's actually _my _date."

The daughter of Bellona schooled her features instantly and played along, leaning into her "date" although she was still inwardly fuming. To Reyna Percy's performance felt awkward and so painfully fake from seeing him when he was _really _in love, but Tess seemed to eat it right up. Her eyes were wide, she was no longer chewing he gum (thank gods), and she stumbled over her words.

"Oh—I thought—I mean, Neal said—oh God, I'm so sorry."

He gave her a lopsided grin and said something about it being cool. And while Reyna thought it looked more like he was baring his teeth than actually smiling, Tess flushed and sheepishly smiled back. A moron _and _a hypocrite.

"I'll just leave you two to…whatever," Tess stammered, already walking away, heels clicking loudly against the floor.

Reyna glanced up at Percy and couldn't help but smile a little. Whatever good the suit did him was completely undone by his untamable, messy hair. Her eyes darted around the gym, searching for a familiar head of curls.

"Don't tell me Annabeth stood you up."

Percy's tilted his head in contemplation, but he was smiling a little. "Sort of." He shrugged. "Emergency up on Olympus, something about Ares's statue being too big to fit into his temple. She told me to come here anyways." He studied her. "What about you?"

Reyna kept her breathing even in order to keep from blushing in shame, a trick she'd learned long ago. "I really did get stood up." She cracked a wry grin. "It seems I have worse luck than Leo."

Percy's eyes looked her, pitying, and Reyna huffed irritably. She was a praetor for Jupiter's sake, there was no way in Pluto she'd talk about her (many) failed attempts to keep a guy. How sad would that be? Reyna averted her gaze and sipped her drink. Gods, if she kept this up she'd be worse than a daughter of Aphrodite.

Percy hummed in amusement, and Reyna caught a small, passively excited twinkle in his eyes like he'd just had a great idea and couldn't wait to share it. At her questioning look, Percy grinned at her and said, "Want to dance?"

Reyna stared at him, sighing a little. It was a wonder he survived Camp Jupiter, it truly was.

"Come on," Percy said, nudging her shoulder lightly. "It's got to be the first time you've done something normal in a while."

Actually it was her very first time, but Reyna wasn't telling him that.

"You came all the way from camp," he continued, "I think you deserve at least one dance."

Reyna opened her mouth to protest, but she made the mistake of looking into his eyes. A deeper, sincere look graced his features. And oh gods, how did Annabeth _ever _win with this boy? "Someone owes you a dance," he said quietly.

If it were anyone else, Reyna would have either died from embarrassment or coldly have told them that she had no idea what they were talking about. But this was Percy, and he looked so genuinely sympathetic and understanding…there was no way she could turn down that face and judging from the tone of his voice, Percy knew exactly what kind of thoughts had been running through her mind.

The daughter of Bellona let him lead her onto the dance floor. It wasn't romantic. Reyna had seen what the children of Aphrodite called "Percabeth," and nothing could break that – who would even _want _to? But it was better than Reyna ever expected.

Maybe she didn't have a boyfriend who'd always be there and would go the ends of the world for her, but at least she had Percy, a friend who would do that and more. And frankly, Reyna was totally okay with that.

* * *

**Leo**

Leo never could stay in one place.

He ruefully smiled at that as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. He was like a wildfire; everywhere he went he made a mess. His mom, New Rome…dropping Percy and Annabeth into Tartarus.

Leo winced at the shrieks from Cabin 6 and picked up the pace, guilt rising in his throat. They didn't need him. Really, they'd be much better off with him; it'd be safer for everyone if he just left Camp Half-Blood before he could destroy that too.

_The fire started in the break room, they said, right where Leo was standing. _

_He'd survived by some miracle, but what kind of child locked the doors of his mother's workplace, _

_knowing she was inside, and started a fire?_

Leo stumbled into the stables and cursed when the pegasi started panicking. That was just so like him. He dumped his bag on the floor and raised his hands in a calming gesture.

"Hey. Hey, easy, ponies," he said, trying to soothe them, but more than half of them snorted indignantly.

Leo vaguely remembered something about Percy telling him and the other members of the Seven how much pegasi despised _My Little Ponies_ and sighed. Something about how a unicorn couldn't just _sprout _wings whenever they felt like it. How did they even know about that show?

"Shhh," he tried again, stroking a black pegasus's muzzle. "See? I'm not going to hurt you."

_At least, I'll try not to._ Leo bit his lip and struggled with the saddle. Gods, he traveled by flying, mechanical dragons and warships, not horses. He didn't exactly possess the same type of skill with them like Percy did. All Leo knew how to do was manipulate fire which was a no-go because of Frank's predicament, he couldn't even use a sword. On the quest, all that was required of him was designing the Agro II, which anyone could've done, and steer it, which Jason (probably) and Percy could handle _without _using the Wii remote.

No, instead of doing anything useful like everyone else, Leo was deadweight and the sole reason Percy and Annabeth had to literally go through hell. Brilliant work, Leo, really. He finds a family willing to accept him, quirks and all, and in repayment, he sends the big brother and sister (in-law, otherwise that'd be just plain weird, screw the fact they were only teenagers, they acted like an old married couple anyways) into Tartarus, home of all things evil.

_Leo rested his hands on the Archimedes sphere, which now sat on the helm, ready to be installed. He should've been excited. It was the biggest discovery of his life – even bigger than Bunker 9. If he could decipher Archimedes's scrolls, he could do amazing things. He hardly dared to hope, but he might even be able to build a new control disk for a certain dragon friend of his._

_Still, the price had been too high._

_He could almost hear Nemesis laughing. _I told you we would do business, Leo Valdez.

_He had opened the fortune cookie. He'd gotten the access code for the sphere and saved Frank and Hazel. But the sacrifice had been Percy and Annabeth. Leo was sure of it._

"_It's my fault," he said quietly, misery coating each word._

Leo stared at his handiwork blankly. Given time, he could build a teleportation device with nothing more than a fan, paper clips, a lawn mower, and lots and lots of duct tape so how in Hades could he _not _understand the basics of a freaking _saddle_ and _reigns_?

He bit back an irritated sigh and gripped the straps of his backpack. Guess he'd just have to walk this one. Just thinking about it made Leo tired, but he'd manage. Like always.

A voice rang out from the entrance of the stables. "Wow," it said, still croaky and sluggish from sleep. "You didn't pay attention to Lacy's riding lessons at all, huh?"

Leo froze, adrenaline pumping through his veins at being caught. He dimly realized that Annabeth wasn't screaming anymore. "Yeah," he said hesitantly, forcing a small laugh and sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. "Didn't really pay attention to Malcolm's history lessons either."

Percy snorted and rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes before looking at Leo. "Little late for ride, don't you think?"

The fireuser was too ashamed to even look at his friend, let alone lie to him. He watched mutedly as Percy glided past him, clad in nothing but flannel pants, and stared at the scars stretching across his back, their pale color standing out against Percy's tan.

"_Oh gods," Frank said, clutching Percy with shaking arms, watching the blood ooze out with horrified fascination._

_Jason instantly composed himself and barked, "Hazel, Piper, get the infirmary ready. Leo, Frank, take care of Annabeth." He took Percy from the shapeshifter and flew him up to the Argo so fast it parted Piper's hair._

_His friends rushed around frantically, not even arguing with Jason's orders (for once) and trying to accomplish them as quickly as possible, but Leo could only stare at the small pool of blood Percy left behind._

_It was all his fault._

Leo swallowed down his bile, and the son of Poseidon unlatched the saddle and reigns before redoing them swiftly and meticulously on a different, smaller pegasus. One that was more Leo-sized.

"You know, I felt like running away one time," Percy mused aloud.

Leo's stomach twisted guiltily. "Oh?" It felt like a rock was lodged in his throat.

Percy nodded. "Only a year ago too."

Leo shifted a little and swallowed. "What happened?"

The son of Poseidon untangled the reigns, and he smiled a little ruefully. "It was during the Titan War."

Leo frowned a little at that. The older boy's fatal flaw was personal loyalty, something that was painfully obvious to everyone. Why would he even be thinking about running when his friends needed him?

"Morpheus and Hecate cast a sleeping spell over Manhattan," Percy continued. "Mortals were passed out on the streets, in stores, cars, _everywhere_." He shook his head. "When I saw it, I was so angry and all that was going through my head was 'What in Hades did they do to _my _city?'"

Leo almost felt sympathetic for Kronos's army. Normal Percy was bad enough but an enraged Percy? No wonder the Titans lost.

"I didn't really _think _about it until I saw my mom and stepdad unconscious." He barked out a startled, slightly watery laugh. "They weren't even in danger really, but I was scared. They were my _parents_, and there they were in the middle of a war because of _me_."

Leo glanced down. He knew the feeling. The guilt.

"Manhattan was asleep and turning into a battlefield, and it was all my fault." Percy furrowed his brows. "I wanted to run away right then and there. Before I could make it worse and lead everyone I cared about to their graves."

Leo stared at him, stunned, then pressed his lips into a thin line. "You retrieved Zeus's master bolt and Hades's helm," he argued. "You got the Golden Fleece and saved Jason's sister." Leo snorted a little. Now the thought of anyone saving Thalia sounded like trying to protect a mountain.

"Dude, you even held up the sky, and earned Artemis's respect. _And_ more." He looked at Percy, drained, guilt written all over his face. "At least you were able to fix what you broke. You defeated Kronos in the end."

Percy tipped his head and pointed out off-handedly, "Actually it was Luke."

"But they needed you," Leo blurted. "There was no way the gods would've won without you."

"There was no way we would've defeated Gaea without you either."

Leo snorted bitterly. "Don't even try to make me feel better. I was the seventh, completely useless wheel of the quest. Nico, Clarisse, Reyna – anyone would've made a much better match for the quest than me. I'm not—"

The son of Poseidon looked into Leo's eyes with steely resolve, and the younger boy snapped his mouth shut on instinct.

"Yeah?" Percy asked. "Well, no one else could've tamed Festus _or _invent a flying warship _or _hold Khione back _or _crack the Archimedes sphere. It _needed _to be you. You've done so many things – and you don't even realize it. Every step of the way we needed you." Percy's eyes glazed over a little. "You think I'm something? In the end, all I really needed to do was hand Luke a knife. You're more of a hero than I am."

Leo didn't believe that last line for a single second and neither would anyone else, but everything what Percy said…well, there wasn't much of an argument he could make. Percy stepped away from the pegasus, patting its back before looking at the younger boy.

"The choice is honestly yours," he said, shrugging but his eyes looked regretful. "I can't force you to stay. I don't think anyone ever could, but" – Percy faltered a little – "just know that I was being honest. Okay?"

The son of Poseidon handed his friend the reigns and silently walked away, head bowed and shoulders sagged.

Leo stared down at the leather straps. He messed up. A lot. Everything he touched generally wound up breaking. No doubt about it, but hey, he was a demigod. A son of Hephaestus. Fixing was kind of his shtick. Smiling, Leo put guided the Pegasus back into his stall and grabbed his backpack.

(The very next day, Percy, looking glum and very, very tired would look up to see Leo with his siblings, chatting away and fiddling with a mess of wires and rubber bands, and a smile brighter than anything Leo had ever seen before would spread across Percy's face at the realization that his friend was there to stay.

And Leo would be very, very glad that, for once, he didn't run away.)

* * *

**I've actually cut out Hazel and Frank from this story because they wouldn't fit in as well. So here's the order: Thalia and Nico, Reyna and Leo, Piper and Jason, Rachel and Grover, Annabeth, and Percy. (I had to change the title because I realized I counted wrong. Oops.)**

**Anyways, sorry if this is OOC, I love both of these characters, but they're sometimes a little hard to capture.**

**But like it? Hate it? Please don't just favorite and follow, review – even if it's just a smiley face.**


	3. Piper and Jason

**Caution: Trigger Warning on Piper's portion.**

* * *

**Piper**

Gods… Pitiful was the only word to describe her right now, sitting on the restroom floor, unfocused and hazy-minded. Pitiful, weak, _disgusting_, the list went on for a couple hundred miles.

Piper released a ragged breath and sagged against the bathroom stall, wiping her chin shakily. She knew her life was completely screwed from the moment her boyfriend started flying, but she _never_ thought she'd wind up here, like this. If anyone found out…

Piper shut her eyes tightly. Everyone always assumed she was Piper, the girl who didn't care if she looked like the crap on the stable floors. The rich girl who wore ratty clothes because she liked being normal, not because she was unconfident. She was _supposed_ to be her very own person. Not the typical, overconfident child of Athena but definitelynot some insecure, hideous…

"_Honestly, I didn't think it was _possible_ for Aphrodite to have an ugly child…"_

Piper chuckled darkly. Oh, yes it was. She was evidence of that.

_Katie Gardner's dress didn't fit Piper._

_Not "it didn't fit her personality," no. It was a lacy, mint green sundress that cut off just above the knee, and frankly, Piper thought it was subtly beautiful and perfect for her first official, not Mist-created date with Jason…. But the back wouldn't zip up no matter how much Katie tugged._

"_Maybe try sucking in?" the daughter of Demeter grunted, her fingers white from gripping the zipper handle so hard._

_Piper was already having issues breathing, but she flatted her stomach as much as she possibly could and stood on her tiptoes. It was either this or her half-sister's pink and black tutu, and Piper wasn't touching that thing with a ten-foot pole. And although she would never admit it out loud, she honestly liked the dress._

_Katie's hand slipped, and she growled out a curse._

"_You okay back there?" Piper squeaked out, turning a little to face the other girl._

"_It's really stuck, Piper," she explained, frowning a little, biting her lip. "Maybe it's just a bad zipper, can you get out of it so I can check?"_

_Piper obediently shimmied out of the garment and tossed it to her, clad in nothing but her underwear. Katie caught it and studied the fastener like it was an infected plant before zipping it up effortlessly. No snag, no catch, nothing._

_Katie shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, Piper," she said, "I don't know what was wrong with it."_

_Someone snorted from the back of Cabin 10. "Oh, nothing's wrong with the dress," Drew said, tossing her hair and gazing into a full-length mirror as she modeled a violet number. Drew smirked at her sister's mid-torso. "Piper's just been putting on a couple pounds."_

_Katie's green eyes narrowed, and she snapped her neck towards the other charmspeaker. "No asked for your opinion, Drew," she said hotly._

_The daughter of Aphrodite only rolled her eyes and put her hands on her impossibly tiny waist. "I'm only saying, if Piper plans on cramming herself into that thing, she'll have to lose, I don't know, like at least eight pounds." She winked and her eyeshadow twinkled playfully under the light. "Not sure how Jason's going to feel about having a heavy girl hanging off his arm. He's strong," she complimented, "but not _that _strong."_

_A strange mixture of fury and terror went down Piper's spine, and her eyes shot down to her bare midsection. Was it seriously that bad?_

_Katie gave Drew an even more scathing glare than what she normally gave Travis and told her to go to the crows. Then she eyed Piper. "You know that's just a load of crap, right?" she said clearly so the former counselor could her._

_The brunette nodded mutely, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from her stomach._

Piper bit the insides of her cheeks to stifle a scream of frustration and leaned over the toilet. A plump face with a nose that was far too pointy and plain, blank eyes stared back at her, and she shoved two fingers down her throat as far as they would go.

Stupid Drew, stupid dress, stupid skinny girls who—

"Piper!"

The daughter of Aphrodite frowned, foggily recognizing that voice. Huh, she thought staring at the open door. Maybe she should've closed that. Piper shrugged and leaned over the public porcelain throne, ready to jam her fingers back down, but this time hands grabbed her and tugged her away to the opposite wall.

She was half-lying down now, leaning against the guy's ribcage, and she shrugged again. No matter, toilet – floor, same difference really. Piper raised her hand to her mouth, but once again, calloused hands snatched her wrists and held them down.

"Piper," the voice said, more forcefully this time, and Piper snapped out of her haze to stare up into angry but alarmed sea green eyes.

Her own eyes widened. "Percy," she started, shifting in his lap. Her previously foggy mind was now racing with thoughts, excuses. _Gods_, how could she be so stupid to let herself get caught.

"You're in the girls' restroom," Piper blurted.

Percy's eyes moved toward the entrance, and Piper followed his gaze out of habit. How long had Julia been there? An uncomfortable knot settled in her stomach, and she wondered if she was going to throw up again. Julia hurriedly shuffled out of the bathroom, eyes wide and confused, but they had absolutely nothing on the look Percy was giving her.

The son of Poseidon's eyes were worried and shocked, but overall? Absolutely livid. "What in Hades, Piper?" he demanded.

Piper swallowed roughly. "It wasn't…wasn't what it looked like," she claimed feebly, but her charmspeaking sounded about as convincing and seductive as constipation.

Percy glanced at the now vacant stall before giving her look that made Piper's shoulders sag with guilt. "I'm not going to judge." A strange, unreadable look flashed across his face. "Trust me," he muttered, staring deep into her eyes. "I won't."

And that was exactly when Piper's dam of pent up insecurities and stupid, stupid, utterly _shallow_ fears broke. She leaned against Percy's stomach for what felt like eternity and alternated between crying and confessing for who knows how long, and in general embarrassed herself so intensely she was seriously considering throwing herself into Tartarus as soon as it was over.

But Percy was patient. He stroked her hair in such a way that made Piper wonder if he had some little sister that he kept secret in order to protect from Leo's pick-up lines. He never interrupted, but Piper knew he was listening no matter how much she sounded like a stupid, frail girl. And when she had completely poured out her heart, Percy quietly told her that she was beautiful, and Jason loved her for who she was.

And although it wasn't the same as her boyfriend saying it to her, Piper had never felt more beautiful. Dresses were never even her style anyways.

* * *

**Jason**

Jason led armies into battle pretty much every time the gods' mistakes came back to bite them in their godly hides (every other year). He knew how to rally a Legion ranging from Kool-Aid addicts to treacherous augurs to feminists wielding really pointy objects with just a couple sentences. He was used to almost dying and always being in danger.

Jason was constantly alert and ready for action. Pluto, not even the apocalypse could make him bat an eye by now (it already happened twice anyways).

So, _originally_, school seemed like kind of like a breeze for Jason. Practically a vacation. Don't get him wrong, Jason loved his position as leader. Really. It's just…well, with Percy off trying to get reacquainted with the world after being pretty much wiped off the map for a year, the pressure and responsibilities had increased dramatically, and Jason was left to bear the weight of _two _camps.

Romans were disciplined and united like a true army, but the Greeks – oh gods – the Greek were more like a family. Messy, arguing, causing unneeded drama (Katie and Travis) and injuries (Clarisse), and Jason had absolutely no idea how to reign them in. He couldn't just pull the higher authority card with them, they didn't give a crap about that, no, he had to personally settle matters and play mediator. And to sum it all up, Jason had never missed Percy more.

Maybe it was just because the Greeks were more devoted to the son of Poseidon or maybe they obeyed because he had that effortlessly persuasive charisma, but either way, the New York demigods were out of control without Percy. Not to mention Annabeth.

Jason cringed a little. Annabeth wasn't weak or scared by any means, quite the opposite actually, but in this case, he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Annabeth was getting tense, snippy, and more aggravated as the days went on, and Jason thought that if her boyfriend didn't get back soon, she would wind up becoming a mass murderer starting with Mark and Sherman.

To sum it up, Jason was stressed, and yes, school _was_ his escape. It had come to that. Chiron was the one who suggested that he attend Goode High School, something about a teacher named Paul who'd be able to cover for him if Jason ever needed to make a quick getaway or got in trouble due to monsters. (Jason wasn't completely sure; he was so sleep deprived he couldn't even find _China _on a map.)

School was what the average teenager could handle. And frankly, if Jason could handle – er, at least sort of handle keeping a couple hundred demigods in place, then Goode would be absolutely nothing.

It took two weeks of a real high school to make Jason admit to eating his words. He was beginning to find that Goode almost exactly like a war, just a whole different field of danger. There were girls lurking around the corner, skimpily clothed enough to make his face heat up and feel uncomfortable. Anime-obsessed Asians and geeks giggled to themselves and made a bunch of weird inside jokes that Jason didn't get. Cheerleaders eyed him like he was a pair of pumps rather than an actual human being, and in a nutshell, he was lost.

Because of his ADHD and dyslexia, people singled him out like he had some weird disease. Because he was called for silence when everyone was off doing their own little thing during class like texting or doodling and not listening to the teacher like they were supposed to, Jason got labeled a goody-two-shoes, which was, apparently, _not _a good thing. Because he had a habit of using expressions like "what in Pluto" instead of "what the heck," people gossiped about him whether he was or wasn't in the room.

In short, Jason was even more miserable than before.

And he hadn't even _scratched _the topic of jocks. He still wasn't sure what he had done to offend them (honestly, he wasn't sure if that was even required), but they hated Jason. One would think that because he was so athletic, they'd take to him. But Jason's little "quirks," a.k.a. what was normal in the demigod world, really tended to annoy normal people and the result was getting his backpack stolen.

Neal, a kid with sandy hair and a nice guy kind of smile, smirked down at where Jason lay sprawled out on the pavement of the school's parking lot, holding the son of Jupiter's backpack while his buddies laughed like idiots. Inside, Jason could hear the bell ring, and he pushed himself up to his feet, brushing off his purple SPQR polo.

"Give it back," Jason ordered, meeting Neal's eyes dead on.

While it would've worked perfectly on say Octavian or anyone else for that matter, Neal only snorted trading looks with his cronies. "'Give it back,'" he mimicked, face breaking into a grin.

Jason clenched his teeth. "We're going to be late," he ground out slowly, his temper reaching boiling point. Gods, he was already being looked down on at camp, he did _not _need to be patronized at school. "And I am sick and tired of dealing with you and your stupid little games, so give it back, or I swear on the Styx—"

"Oh. My. God," Neal groaned, sagging his shoulders in exasperation. He stared at Jason. "You seriously don't get it, huh? You don't realize just how much of a _freak _you are. 'Gods, Styx, Pluto'" – he guffawed – "what the heck, man?"

Jason pulled his hands into fists and resisted the urge to strike the jock with lightning when Neal kicked him onto his back and planted a foot on his chest. _Just a mortal_, he chanted. _Just a mortal – a jerk – but a mortal._

"No one wants you here," Neal continued. "Heck, no one even _likes _you so—"

Jason's arms were shaking, and he was certain sparks were going to start flying off her arms any second when a voice (oh sweet Juno, he missed that voice) cut in coldly, saying, "Neal, get off him right now before I pull you off myself."

Jason didn't need to crane his neck to know that standing a bit behind him was a tall senior with messy black hair, brooding face, and sea green eyes. He also didn't need to look to guess that said green eyes would be darkening in anger right about now.

Jason suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Normally, he would've been appalled to be seen pinned to the ground by a mortal. Especially if it was the son of Poseidon who witnessed it, but frankly, he was just really happy to see him again.

Neal's face broke into a broad grin. "Percy!" Then he blinked, smile wavering. "You _know _this kid?"

Jason could practically imagine Percy's eye twitching. "Yeah," the son of Poseidon said obviously. Without even a second of hesitation, he added, "He's my cousin."

Jason's eyebrow and lips lifted up at that and a foreign but not unpleasant feeling of something akin to pride settled in his chest.

Neal's jaw went slack and he paled. "Oh, man, look, I had..." He trailed off at Percy's blank look, before trying again, gesturing towards Jason and finally stepping off of him, "He didn't say anything."

Percy gave him a sharp, terrifying look that Jason had labeled as his deluxe "I-kill-you-later" stare, and Neal and his buddies shuffled off into the school, muttering to themselves while Percy tugged his cousin onto his feet, giving him a once over.

"You okay?"

Jason managed a weak, slightly sheepish grin. "I've fought Titans and Giants, it's going to take a bit more than a senior to kill me."

Percy gazed off towards the school. "True," he agreed.

Jason took a moment to study his cousin's face. Dark circles still lingered underneath his bleak, glazed eyes that were once vibrant and piercing, but his skin had recovered his healthy tan, and it looked like he was filling out his clothes again. A calm, controlled look settled on his face, one that Jason had grown accustomed to seeing curing counselor meetings. The one that got everyone – god, half-blood, mortal – to listen to him.

Seeing it felt like swimming for miles and finding a lifesaver, and before he could stop himself, Jason blurted, "I'm really glad you're back."

Percy's eyes twinkled amusedly and small smile made its way across his face. "Yeah," he said. "I'm here to stay now."

And that, well, that was pretty much worth all the stress and chaos of the past few weeks.

(The next day, Percy sat with Jason at lunch with bruised and bloody knuckles, and when the blond asked him about it, Percy just glanced it his hand and furrowed his eyebrows.

"Huh," he said, bewildered. "No idea, Jason."

On a completely unrelated note, Neal and his friends showed up to their next period with black eyes and broken noses.)

* * *

**Piper (most likely) wouldn't be bulimic, but I thought I should address one of the more common (unfortunately) problems normal teens deal with. And I **_**definitely **_**couldn't see Rachel or Annabeth doing anything like that.**

**Plus, although she seems fairly confident in her own skin, Piper **_**instantly **_**gets jealous and insecure when it comes to Jason.**

**So like it? Hate it? Please review.**


	4. Rachel, Grover, and Annabeth

**Rachel**

Rachel Dare wasn't someone to freely use the word _hate_.

It was a nasty, deep word that shouldn't be used flippantly, and frankly, she tried to not say it altogether. But right now, _oh_ gods, how she _hated _the Capture the Flag.

In all honesty, it wasn't too different from any other game. Everyone wanted to win, everyone generally played a little dirty and bent the rules (or flat out broke them, whichever they could get away with), but Rachel thought that the Hunters were taking the game _way_ too seriously. Greek defense lines were being crushed, and Romans, despite their superior numbers, were getting overpowered by an eternal maidens club, and basically, this game sucked.

Rachel still didn't know who, but someone from Camp Jupiter, who apparently was still pretty sore about sinking so low as to team up with the _Graeci_,insisted on the Oracle's participation, after all, Octavian played. Personally, Rachel didn't really think that hiding behind teammates counted as "participating," but she didn't decline. That would've been embarrassing for Camp Half-Blood, and really, when did she _ever _back down from a challenge? Besides, Rachel thought, if she helped, it would've been proof that not all mortals were completely useless.

Rachel's team consisted of Katie, Travis, Connor, Mitchell, and Gwen, and she wondered if some god above secretly despised her. Their part in Annabeth and Reyna's scheme was simple, discreet, more scouting than any real fighting (most likely to keep the Oracle safe), but Rachel was certain that every Hunter within a mile could hear the racket they were making.

"What are you talking about?" Katie demanded, barely refraining from yelling and cheeks colored a deep red. "My mom does _not _have an obsession with cereal. Shut up."

Rachel couldn't agree with that last statement more. Travis and Connor had been teasing Katie about her mom's little quirks for about ten minutes, and she was just waiting for the brothers to suddenly turn into wheat or corn any second now if they didn't stop.

Travis's lips curved into a sly smile. "Oh, really?" he drawled. "Then how come at the Winter Soltice she—"

Katie reeled back to glare at him and hissed, "We don't speak of it."

Mitchell sighed dramatically. "You two are worse than Percy and Annabeth were."

Katie and Travis blanched and looked away from each other, and Connor laughed. "I told you she liked you!"

And that was exactly when it all fell through to the Underworld. In the short span of only ten seconds, Katie screamed bloody murder, Travis kicked his brother sharply, eliciting a pained yelp, Gwen, who's poor eye had been twitching throughout the whole trek, finally broke, yelling for them to shut up and act like grown-ups, and twelve Hunters burst out of the dark of the woods, arrows trained on the campers and Oracle.

Gwen, frustration instantly wiped away in a way only true Roman could do, gave Rachel a piercing, meaningful look and said, coolly and clearly, "_Run_."

So that was how Rachel wound up in the woods, separated from her teammates, in clunky armor, unarmed.

Well, not _completely _unarmed of course. They gave Rachel a weapon and taught her how to use it. Sort of.

For her first attempt, Annabeth had given her a knife and showed Rachel how to handle it correctly and demonstrated the most basic strikes and blocks, and Rachel honestly thought she had it. But when Annabeth was able to disarm her two times _blindfolded_…well, they both thought that maybe the dagger wasn't the right weapon for her.

The daughter of Athena suggested archery. It was the most logical choice; it'd keep Rachel out of the way and besides, she was the Oracle, _Apollo's _Oracle. She had to have some serious skill with a bow and arrow, right? Evidently not because Frank–of all people – lost his patience with her, and according to Will Solace, only Percy's aim was as bad as hers.

Percy himself tried to teach Rachel how to use a sword, but every blade felt so unbalanced and heavy in her hands, and – just, no. Swords didn't really sit well with her anyways ever since a certain son of Poseidon tried to decapitate her.

Finally, completely fed up and out of ideas, they left her to the mercy of Clarisse. The daughter of Ares had tossed her a spear and given her lessons, but it didn't matter if Rachel was taught by the best. She was no demigod. Her steps were uncertain and unbalanced, her swings were slow and sloppy, and where Clarisse were all strength and deadly precision, Rachel was awkward and tripping over her own spear.

It got so bad even Thalia (who was competitive as a pageant girl when it came to…well, anything really) ignored the important little fact that Rachel was on the opposing team and gave her a couple pointers, even went so far as to teach the Oracle a few of her own tricks. The Hunter gave up about two hours later, but it was thought that counted.

It was a good experience for Rachel. She got to experience a life of a half-blood and get some hardcore exercising in, and when she found her way out the godforsaken forest, she was going to _kill _that little weasel who had pressured her into the game.

Rachel hefted her spear and crawled her way through the foliage, muttering some of the Greek curse words Annabeth taught her. She didn't like to be labeled as a damsel in distress, she pegged Kronos in the eye with her hairbrush for crying out loud. But frankly, Rachel was lost in a forest stocked with monsters and a small inkling of dread was growing in her stomach. These woods were thick, and it didn't even look like anyone had ever touched this area. At least, no human.

Rachel stopped in her tracks and tensed. Something definitely wasn't right. Every instinct screamed for her to run back to camp (wherever that was) _now_.

The air seemed to get colder around her, and she could've sworn something just rustled in the bushes to her left. Rachel backed away, gripping her spear with both hands and positioning her feet apart like Clarisse taught her. Even if she knew which way to go, her armor would've dragged her down. Her only option was to stand and fight.

The leaves of an old, twisted birch tree trembled, and Rachel bared her spear in what she hoped was a threatening manner. Her mind raced with instructions and tips, but she her stomach felt lead. Training wasn't the same as experience, Rachel knew that. It didn't matter how much information was drilled into her head, she had never killed a monster before. And even though she hated to admit it or even think it, she was scared.

The tree's leaves finally stilled, and a dryad, eyes closed and clothes crinkled delicately, melted out of the bark with a soft, tired sigh. The nymph's skin was as pale as Nico's, her white hair was speckled with brown, and she looked like a typical birch spirit. Rachel's shoulders loosened, and she lowered her spear. _Gods_, she thought, smiling wryly to herself, _when did I get so paranoid?_

"Hey," she started, "sorry for waking you up, but could you just point me—"

"Rachel Elizabeth Dare," the dryad murmured, eyes finally cracking open to reveal two piercing brown eyes. She released a breathy, humorless laugh.

Rachel tensed and slowly backed away, raising her weapon a little. Her eyes darted around the area, looking for a way to escape if worse came to worse.

The dryad watched the Oracle coldly. "You will pay for what your father did. For what he has done to our kind." She closed her eyes and murmured, "So many…" She breathed in. "Every dryad, every nymph, every creature destroyed for William Dare's own gain." Her eyes opened again, and she bared her teeth. "_That _will be on your head."

Rachel's eyes widened, and she rolled back in time, looking up to see the dryad claw at the empty air where she just stood. She could just see the headlines now _Rachel Dare, Heir of Dare Enterprises, Attempted Assassination by Birch Tree_. Awesome.

The dryad sighed tiredly like that one lunge completely drained her and flicked her wrist effortlessly. At first, nothing happened. Nothing jumped out of the trees to kill her or anything, but then the grass beneath Rachel started to wriggle like worms. It thickened and grew, wrapping around her wrists and ankles like rope. Roots sprung out of the ground and reached towards her like claws, surrounding her like a coffin and tightening. Two of them slithered around her right ankle, one below and another above, before they thickened, pressing agonizingly down on the bone. A pained, strangled scream made tore its way through Rachel's throat just a second after she heard something snap.

She was being crushed, not just her ankle but her entire body. Every breath was a quick, desperate gasp for air, and her vision was starting to go black.

Rachel, cheek pressed to the ground, stared up at the dryad through glassy eyes, a million thoughts racing through her head. If she died now, what would happen to the spirit of Delphi? Where in freaking Hades was her spear? When would people realize she was gone? On a scale of one to ten how painful was it to be crushed to death? And, most importantly, were Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter going to win Capture the Flag?

An angry shout cut through the numbing pain, and the dryad reeled back, sleepy eyes now wide with fear. A familiar figure wielding a bronze sword sliced through the tree nymph as though the blade was simply an extension of his arm, and the dryad dissolved into a shower of gold dust. Her birch tree's leaves instantly withered and turned brown, trickling down to the earth.

Percy, eyes wide, knelt beside Rachel and alternated between hacking and ripping away the roots. It was a long, arduous task, but as he freed her from her personal wooden death bed, Rachel recovered her breath and grip on coherence. She glared at the five-foot long spear lying uselessly to side. Lot of good that did.

Pain erupted from her ankle where Percy was pulling, and Rachel took a sharp intake of breath, squeezing her eyes shut. Schist, that was impressively excruciating.

Percy instantly pulled his hands away like they were on fire.

"Broken," Rachel grit out. "Tug on that, and, Percy, I swear, I will skin you alive. Hero of Olympus or not."

The son of Poseidon nodded curtly. "Noted." And he, much more carefully this time, picked away at the dryad's work.

Rachel wet her lips. "How did you find me?"

"When Clarisse and I broke everyone out of jail, Gwen told me what happened to your group," he said distractedly, solely focused on his task. "I told Jason to hold down the fort while I looked for you."

He gently pulled away the last of the wood and slung Rachel's arm over his shoulders, helping her up. Percy eyed the spear. "You know, the whole point of having a weapon is to not lose it."

Rachel huffed, blowing a red curl out of her face. "That's easy for you to say," she stated, rolling her eyes playfully. "You have a pen that's a sword that magically returns to your pocket whenever you lose it." She tilted her head to the side. "So, like, every ten minutes or when the Stolls pickpocket it."

Percy mildly glared at her, and Rachel triumphantly smirked at him before another wave of pain spiked through her ankle. She bit her lip hard and muffled a scream. Good gods, how did Annabeth go through _Tartarus _like this?

"Oh gods, I'm sorry," Percy said as if he kicked it himself.

Rachel waved him off. "I'll live, it's just an ankle." Granted an exceedingly _pained _ankle but still…

Percy stared at her injury and paled considerably, looking like he was going to pass out any second. His sea green eyes were wide and unfocused, and beneath Rachel's arm, she could feel his shoulders tensing like a spring.

"Percy?" she asked.

Slowly, eerily, his eyes cleared, and he carefully bent down to pick her up beneath her knees, lifting her up bridal style. Although, Rachel thought, Annabeth wouldn't be so fond of that term whatsoever. Nevertheless, Percy carried her all the way through the woods, keeping up with her banter, and making her laugh by saying the stupidest things.

As Rachel watched his face, she was struck again by just how handsome the son of Poseidon was. It wasn't a new feeling. Heck, it was the most common thought running through her head when she was fifteen, but still, it managed to take her breath away every time. Dark hair, sculpted face, ever changing eyes, it wasn't hard to be attracted to that.

But now, really thinking about it, it was never a romantic pull. Percy had a trustworthy, friendly charm that most people didn't possess. It was as rich as gold, and one would have to be crazy to not gravitate towards that. But no. Percy was never actually more than a friend. A priceless, one of a kindfriend.

Something, like a knot Rachel didn't even know she had, slowly untangled itself at the realization, leaving her calm despite the piercing, utterly _horrible _throbbing all over her body, and she relaxed into her friend's arms, smiling a little to herself. Rachel Jackson didn't have the same ring as Annabeth Jackson did anyways.

(Percy's eyes suddenly brightened, and he gave her an excited, devious smile that reminded Rachel of an eight year-old. "Hey," he said casually, "how much do you really want to win this game?"

Percy's insanely idiotic and half-baked plan required peanut butter, Mrs. O'Leary, her iPod, and a gallon of Dr. Pepper, but hey, for once, the Hunters lost. And Rachel, using her spear as a crutch, hobbled across the border holding the flag while Percy held off the Hunters and cheered right behind her.

Rachel smiled to herself. She could always count on Percy for everything.)

* * *

**Grover**

Grover knew that Yancy Academy would be his own personal Punishment the moment the scary girl with red hair and freckles sized him up from the opposite end of the hall. She was short and looked completely unnatural in her school uniform, but Grover still shuffled his Styrofoam feet in apprehension.

Bullies came in many shapes and sizes, but Grover knew one when he saw one, and that redheaded nightmare was, in fact, a bully. Out of habit, he avoided eye contact and quickly ducked behind the corner, sniffing furiously for his half-blood. Hardly trying to be subtle.

Every sense, every instinct had urged Grover to the boarding school. He felt a familiar tingle in his nose and ears when he drew near it, but so far, all he'd smelled was the stench of polluting humans and cheap perfume mixed with the musky aroma of Yancy. Charming, really.

Just as Grover was straightening his hat, someone said gleefully, "Well, a newbie!"

The satyr instantly froze, and his nose twitched. Shoot. Grover awkwardly trotted around to come face to face with the redhead. He unintentionally flinched back a little. Hades, she was even worse up close. Her skin was pale and dotted with orange freckles, her hair was bright red and poofy, and her eyes were yellow and crooked. And she _reeked_ of humanity.

Grover, once again, didn't meet her eyes and stuttered, "H-hi. I'm Grover Underwood." He shifted uncomfortably, searching for words. "I'm from Long Island. And I—"

The girl rolled her eyes irritably, and she reminded Grover of someone. "Whatever," she said. "Don't care, but" – she traded devious looks with her two friends – "we've got an initiation for new kids around here."

The redhead gripped the sleeve of Grover's uniform tightly and shoved him into the, surprisingly empty, boys' restroom. _Oh gods_, he thought, realization hitting him, _Yancy has their very own Clarisse La Rue_. She kicked open one of the stalls and pushed Grover onto his knees, stomach twisting and eyes wide as he stared into the water.

Ah. So it was _that _kind of initiation. Grover's heart beat quickly, and his breathing spiked.

The redhead laughed loudly. "Look at him," she goaded. "He's not even putting up a fight."

And yeah, that was true. Grover couldn't even manage one pitiful cry for help before she shoved his head into the toilet. Water rushed up his nose and in his mouth, and he felt like he was just a kid again.

When Grover was younger, he'd pretty much accepted the fact that he had absolutely no special talents or qualities. He were a scrawny little thing with trembling goat legs and ridiculous little devil's horns, and Grover looked so strange and scared even for a satyr that the little woodland creatures picked on him.

All of the dryads and naiads found that hazing him was an amusing way to pass time. The dryads would giggle and throw berries, twigs, or pinecones at him, and some would snag burrs on his fur. The water nymphs were the worst. But being the target of dryads Grover could handle. The worst a tree nymph could do was through a really big pinecone at him.

It was their watery counterparts that Grover was scared of. The naiads knew how hard it was to swim with hooves, and they thought it was positively hilarious to watch struggle for breath and kick helplessly. As soon as Grover had completely exhausted himself, the less malevolent naiads would drag him back onto dry land. He could never stop himself from crying though, and that only encouraged them.

When Chiron found out about Grover's little swimming lessons, he was furious with the naiads. Grover didn't know what he said to them because he was a little busy with trying to breathe, but whatever Chiron told them, it was scary. They never bothered Grover again, but he could never get over his fear of water.

_Grover's hooves kicked uselessly in the water, and he frantically moved his arms in spastic motions, trying to keep his head above the lake and (as always) failing miserably. _

_He wasn't sure if his eyes were welling up with tears or if it was just the water, but his vision blurred, and below him he could hear the naiads giggling to themselves. A hand ghosted on his leg, tauntingly jerking his mouth and nose underwater, and innocently giggling even more when he gurgled a yelp._

Grover shut his eyes. Gods, he hated the water. Never liked it, and his future opinions of it weren't looking too hot either. Naiads. He had an excellent word to describe them, of course, but it was a dirty one that made his nanny goat wash his mouth out with soap once.

Grover's lungs were screaming for air now, but when he struggled against the redhead's grip, she only pushed down harder, jamming his head that much further into the water. Dark spots pinpricked his vision, and he could hear the girls laughing. They obviously weren't going to let up any time soon, and panicking, Grover bleated, expelling what little air he had left.

If Grover wasn't so terrified, he would've rolled his eyes. Of course he'd be killed before even started looking for Pan, let alone get his license. He was going to die on his second assignment, and this time he hadn't even found the half-blood.

It all happened quickly. One moment, blood was roaring in his ears, and his eyes were beginning to roll back in his head…and then he caught a whiff of something salty that mingled with something vile. But he was breathing. The water was pushed away to the sides in a way only a naiad could control it, and Grover had his own little, toilet air bubble.

"Hey, lay off!" someone, a young boy, snapped, and Grover felt the redhead's hands get pushed away.

The satyr pulled his sopping wet face out of the toilet to stare at his savior. He was on the shorter side, somewhere around Annabeth's age, maybe a little younger. His hair was dark and messy like he'd just rolled out of bed and his uniform was wrinkled, but his ocean colored eyes made him look old and intimidating. Grover was sure that if the boy was in a happy mood, his eyes would be bright and friendly, but right now, he could swear there were mini hurricanes brewing in them.

The boy glared at the ringleader. "God, Nancy, what's with you?"

Nancy scoffed, but Grover thought he detected a hint of nervousness. "Get lost, Jackson, this has nothing to do with you."

Jackson's jaw set, and his eyes darkened even more, stared straight into Nancy's green eyes, unrelenting. Grover's gaze dropped back down to the water briefly. It was back to normal again, no bubble, just a semi-clean toilet bowl, and he wondered if it was just a figment of his imagination. Grover's eyes lifted back up to Jackson and a small inkling of dread filled his stomach. Or maybe not, he thought.

After what felt like eternity, Nancy flipped her frizzy hair and sneered. "Whatever, Jackson." She nodded to her friends, already walking away. "Come on, girls."

When the door swung shut behind Nancy and her cronies, Jackson's eyes finally softened. He looked at Grover, lending him a hand. "Sorry about that," he said. "Nancy's been coming here for a while." He rolled his eyes. "Like that's some huge accomplishment. She likes to pick on the new kids."

"Y-yeah," Grover said, subtly checking to see if his hat was still covering his horns. "I sort of figured." Not really, but still…

The other boy held out his hand. "My name's Percy. Jackson," he added at Grover's curious glance. "What's yours?"

The satyr imperceptibly wriggled his hoof back into his converse. "Grover Underwood." He thought for a second, picking his words carefully. "Would it be okay if I tagged along with you? I don't really, uh…" Grover shifted awkwardly. "…have any friends?"

Percy grinned, eyes flashing amusedly. "Hey, neither do I." He readjusted the straps of his backpack and turned around towards the exit, and Grover faltered when he caught a trace of the boy's scent. That smell… Percy Jackson was his half-blood, but he…he smelled like…

Percy glanced back questioningly. "You coming?"

Grover shook himself out of his daze and trotted up to his new half-blood, mind racing. There was only one kind of demigod that could control water like that and only one Olympian who smelled like the sea. The satyr eyed Percy out of the corner of his eye. He needed to protect him. No question about that, he couldn't make the same mistake as last time. Percy Jackson _had _to survive to his sixteenth birthday, and it was Grover's job to see it through.

Not to mention, he added to himself, it was only right to repay the favor.

(Oh, Grover. He had no idea just how many times his newest half-blood was save his hide.)

* * *

**Annabeth**

Sleep, Annabeth had come to realize bitterly, was the best prison of all.

Locks, cages, labyrinths, magnetically sealed doors had absolutely _nothing _on the nightmares that haunted her at her weakest. Monsters Annabeth could fight, traps she could outmaneuver, people she could outsmart, but dreams…well, all she could do was pray that it was only that. A dream.

When Annabeth was awake, it was easy to stay composed and push back the memories. In the sun, surrounded by friends and family, she was so fearless and flawless and normal that if the campers didn't know any better, they'd say that Annabeth had never even fallen into Tartarus.

But once Apollo's sun chariot set, curfew was called, and everyone crawled into the beds, Annabeth was forced to endure nightmares that she couldn't escape or fight. Dark everywhere she turned, creatures out for blood and revenge hiding behind every corner, in every crevice – those were Annabeth's mildest dreams. That was _mercy_.

Memories were what she was afraid of.

"_Behind you!" she yelled._

_The empousa reached out towards her boyfriend, hands curled into claws, mouth open and sharp fangs gleaming wickedly. And for a split second, Annabeth wasn't sure if he'd make it this time. But with quick reflexes and expert precision, Percy swung up his sword, slicing her down the middle easily. The empousa howled and vaporized into a dark, misty substance, leaving the nothing behind._

_Annabeth still wasn't 100% sure what happened to the monsters. Normally they would've disintegrated into gold dust, their essence returning to Tartarus in order to be reformed, but well, considering where they were, Annabeth didn't think that principle still applied._

_Percy nodded at his girlfriend. "Thanks," he panted, draping her arm across his shoulder in order to keep her off her ankle. _

_Hermes's bubblewrap was utterly useless now, and she knew it might've been asking a bit too much (not to mention the fact that he was still bitter towards her for not saving Luke) but couldn't he have given her something a bit more sturdy? After all, they were saving the world. Again._

_Annabeth swallowed a little and nodded. "Don't mention it."_

_Percy looked up towards two tall, imposing doors, each side chained to the ground and wide open. The Doors of Death," he said, his voice a little full of wonder and he gently squeezed his girlfriend's hand. "We've made it."_

_Annabeth rolled her eyes, but secretly, she was just as amazed as her boyfriend. "You don't need to sound so surprised, you know," she quipped._

_Percy barked out a small, choked laugh. "Well, after everything that's happened…"_

_Annaeth wrinkled her brows and gripped her boyfriend's hand tighter. "I know, Seaweed Brain." She wet her lips and studied the Doors, entranced. "But we're here now. We're almost out, as soon as we get back to Camp Half-Blood everything will be fine."_

_Percy stared into her eyes, black hair wild and paler than ever, but Annabeth's heart still fluttered in her chest. "You really believe that?" he asked._

_She opened her mouth to respond but as she met his sea green orbs, her words died on her tongue. Instead she sighed, hanging her head. "No," Annabeth said brokenly. "Not really." An empty laugh echoed in the pit. "But it was worth a shot, wasn't it?"_

_Percy looked down at his worn shoes and adjusted his sword in his hand. "We've made it," he repeated, and Annabeth wasn't sure if he was saying to reassure himself or her. The Percy supported Annabeth carefully and together, they hobbled to the Doors slowly, muscles screeching in pain._

_Percy grinned down at her._ _"You know," he mused, his voice was light like it always was when the Seaweed Brain was about to make a joke._ _Percy's sea green eyes twinkled mischievously, and a small smile cracked through Annabeth's bleak face. She didn't even see the monster's golden fur glinting in the dim light, crouched and ready to strike._

"_I think Leo—" Percy didn't even get to finish his sentence. He dropped to the ground, agonized cry ripping through his throat as the Nemean Lion roared and Annabeth screamed._

Sleep was where Annabeth was helpless. Where she was utterly trapped in an endless replay of hellish memories, and where she could no longer distinguish a nightmare from reality. Annabeth Chase fell back into Tartarus night after night like a sick, twisted routine. Blood red and dark drowned out sea green, and a pair of cold, molten gold eyes were all she could see.

She was falling down, down, down like Alice in Wonderland, and she wanted nothing more than to wake, to stop _falling_. Kronos, in the form of Luke, waited for her at the bottom, and like every night, Annabeth would squeeze her eyes shut, bracing herself for the pain she was about to endure.

"Oh, Annabeth," Kronos said, sounding _exactly _like Luke. "You see? I told you that Percy didn't love you. Not like I did."

Annabeth's hands shook with barely contained fury (or fear, could've been fear). "Love?" she said, a mocking lilt staining her voice before turning harsh. "You left me. You abandoned me just like everyone else did. Only Percy stayed."

Luke's face turned hard. "Really?" he growled, gesturing to the empty air beside her. "And where is he now?"

Annabeth bit the inside of her cheek. Just a dream, she told herself. It didn't go like this in real life. Percy never left. Percy stayed just like he always did.

Luke knelt beside her, and she sat rigidly when he stroked her hair. "He never loved you," Luke said. "If he did, he would've fallen down right alongside you, but he didn't. Percy let go all right. He let go of you."

She flinched. "Leave me alone."

"And left you in Tartarus all by yourself," Luke continued, grinning. "With me."

A lump hardened in her throat. "That's not true."

Luke snorted and gave her a pitying look. "Annabeth, you're smart. Don't tell me you actually thought that little mirage was real." At her hard glare, he sighed and crouched down like he was explaining a complicated math equation to a two year-old. "You never reached the Doors," he stated. "Reuniting with the rest of the Seven, defeating Gaea, that was all just" – he raised a finger and twirled it – "in your head. My own little sandbox now."

"Liar," Annabeth spat.

Luke gave her a look. "You think that _you_, of all people, would win a happily ever after? Just because you saved the world a couple times? You'd have better luck winning the lottery, Wise Girl."

Annabeth flinched again.

Luke sneered. "Well," he said, extending both arms, "then welcome to your happy ending. Because this is it. Welcome to Tartarus." Luke grinned. "Now, back to your little fantasy."

Luke snapped his fingers, the sound bouncing off the walls, and Annabeth's eyes shot open to meet green. Percy sat on her bed, propping her up, and holding her firmly, shirt messy thrown on so she wouldn't have to see his scars.

Just looking at him made her heart sink. "Not real," Annabeth croaked, shaking her head and miserably sinking back down. "You're not Seaweed Brain."

Percy's eyes turned misty at her accusation, but an understanding look overcame his face. He laced his fingers with hers and pressed his forehead to hers even though she tried to shrink away from the contact. He wasn't real. Just Kronos's sick way of torturing her.

"Real," Percy murmured. "I swear on the Styx I am."

Annabeth's wide grey eyes didn't show a hint of being convinced, but Percy didn't give up. He took her hand (three times since she kept snatching it away) and guided it towards his chest where she could feel the steady, constant thump of his heart.

"Together," Percy said. "Just like I promised. Right, Wise Girl? Always together."

Annabeth, still wary, managed to let herself loosen in his grip. She didn't dare tear her gaze off of him though.

Percy noticed this, forced a smile, and held her hand tight. Just like how he did before the fall. "Together," he said, completely sure of it. "I've never let go, and I don't see that happening any time soon." He nudged her a little, a hesitant grin playing at his lips. "You're stuck with me now, Wise Girl. No take backs."

She closed her eyes as a shaky smile tugged at her lips and exhaled, "As long as we're together."

And yeah, as long as they were together, Annabeth Chase was totally okay with falling down, down, down again and again every night. Percy was always there to catch her anyways.

* * *

**Wow, I just realized that this was my first time writing actual Percabeth. That last line…haha, sorry, I couldn't resist.**

**Anyways, I'll be leaving for France on Thursday, but I'll post Percy's chapter as soon as possible. Feedback is **_**always**_** appreciated, so please review!**


	5. Percy

**Thank you so much to everyone who favorited, followed, and reviewed! Your support really means a lot to me. So once again, thank you, and I hope you enjoy this last chapter. Feel free to follow me and check out my other stories.**

**Note: Trigger Warning and OOCness!**

* * *

_**Percy**_

In his defense, Percy fought it.

It was a gradual breakdown, slow and overwhelmingly terrifying, and he was helpless to stop it, just like falling all the way down into the depths of Tartarus, and Percy wondered if that was what Luke felt like.

No wonder the son of Hermes turned his back on Olympus.

What good did the gods ever do? Really? They sat on their thrones (which _he _saved) and watched their kids run around like slaves, not even lifting a finger to help. Zeus, Hera, Athena, everyone – he could save Olympus, and they would still want take a vote on whether to kill him or not, like he was a dog that bit his owner.

Percy never complained. He never asked for any recognition or to be put in Olympus's hall of fame, all he wanted was a peaceful, average demigod life. Instead, the gods pulled him right back into wars and prophecies over and over and over again. And when Cabin Eleven filled up with more undetermined kids, Percy felt like all his work was in vain.

The gods never changed. They were still as arrogant and cruel as they were thousands of years ago, and Percy was seriously wondering if it – his efforts, the teenagers suffering from PTSD, campers who gave their lives for Olympus – was worth it at all.

Thalia craving her father's love, Nico being shunned – that wasn't fair at all. His cousins were heroes, they deserved to be recognized. Reyna feeling abandoned, Leo _wanting _to abandon them. Piper's bulimia, Jason needing and relying on Percy. It was all closing in around him. He was drowning in a way he'd never thought of.

And then Annabeth…

Percy's hold tightened on the handle. Annabeth, who saved the world, led one of the greatest quests of their generation, was rewarded with the horrors of Tartarus and forced to relive them alone every. Single. Night. He tried to be there for her as much as possible. He _wanted _to be there for her, but – Percy shuddered – it was hard when he was having trouble working through his own issues.

"Tartarus," Percy mused aloud. At first, he didn't really remember what had happened down there. It was all just a big blank like when Hera wiped his memory. (Percy grit his teeth. Another thing to add to the list of what's wrong with the gods.) But it was all coming back to him now, crashing on him violently and leaving him a complete mess.

Sometimes he'd freeze up a little during a sparring session if one of Reyna's strikes came just a little too close for comfort, and in place of his friend he'd see the Nemean Lion. Other times, like when he saw a couple of his friends from Goode picking on Jason, he would see Arachne towering over Annabeth. Not that Percy ever said anything about his little dilemma.

The entire camp thought that their leader had gotten through Tartarus completely unscathed save for a few cuts and bruises here and there, and they were all content and relieved by that. No need to ruin everyone's happiness because of a few minor discomforts (nightmares, blackouts, hallucinations, et cetera).

"_You retrieved Zeus's master bolt and Hades's helm," Leo argued and the sheer belief and idolization in his voice made Percy's stomach churn. "You got the Golden Fleece and saved Jason's sister. Dude, you even held up the sky, and earned Artemis's respect. And more." The way Leo looked at Percy reminded him of Julia. "At least you were able to fix what you broke. You defeated Kronos in the end."_

_Percy's eyes glazed over a little when he thought about the Titan War. Looking back on it, it felt like childsplay compared to what followed. "Actually," he managed, "it was Luke."_

"_But they needed you," Leo blurted. "There was no way the gods would've won without you."_

_No, Percy thought sardonically. It seems they can't win without a lot of people's help. And what thanks did the remaining half-bloods get? They were left alone to fight yet another, stronger enemy while their parents hid up on Olympus like cowards. What was next? What war would Percy and his friends (who, by the way, were dying at an alarming rate) have to fight for them in the name of "family?"_

* * *

_Piper eyes filled up with pent up frustration and tears. "It wasn't…wasn't what it looked like," she said, but any charm her voice usually held was lost on him._

_Looking at Piper now made Percy feel hollow. A hero, once confident and true to herself, reduced to this, torn apart by the smallest of things. Her mother didn't even find it important enough to intervene. Interrupt an important quest to save Artemis in order to talk about his love life and give a vague warning that didn't prevent Bianca's death, of course, Aphrodite definitely had time for that. But stop her daughter from doing this to herself? Oh, no. Ultra skinny was the new thing anyways._

_Anger gripped his heart. It wasn't like Aphrodite could just have another daughter to replace her anyways if it went to far.  
_

"_I'm not going to judge." _I know exactly what it feels like to fall off the pedestal people put you on_, he thought. "Trust me," Percy muttered, staring deep into her eyes. "I won't."_

* * *

_Jason was never really an emotional guy. No amount of Greek influence could change that, so when Percy's cousin looked up at him, relief written all over his face like a little boy trusting his big brother to make everything better, Percy knew that his poor excuse for "rehab" would have to be cut short. _

_Jason had dark circles under his eyes and his usually straight as a flipping ruler posture was sagged, and Percy wasn't cruel enough to subject him to the job of babysitting a mob of immature, wild teenagers any longer. _

"_I'm really glad you're back," Jason told him, grin splitting his face._

_Percy cracked (forced) a small, exhausted smile. "Yeah. I'm here to stay now," he said, strong, confident mask already set in place._

* * *

"_Oh gods, I'm sorry," Percy said. He had a sickening feeling of déjà vu just looking at the bone…. Oh gods, it was even bent at the same angle as…_

_Rachel tried to wave him off. "I'll live, it's just an ankle."_

_Percy felt like he was going to pass out any second. The ankle, the dark of the forest, the monsters roaming about, it was all just a piercing reminder of Tartarus, and he hoped Rachel didn't notice the way he trembled. Or the feral way his eyes darted around the area, watching in mute horror as memories of just what unfolded in the depths of hell resurfaced._

_Whoever said ignorance was bliss knew exactly what they were talking about._

Percy twirled the gun around in his hands. All the other demigods were healing. Olympus was safe. He chuckled humorlessly. Not that it even mattered. Give it a couple years, there'd be another war, another prophecy, some other mess the gods made that he'd need to clean up.

Percy sighed and lowered the weapon. Of course he wouldn't pull the trigger. Leo, Jason, Annabeth – people needed him. He pressed his lips together. Still, they were getting better, mending. Thalia's daddy issues were something of the past. People were getting over Nico's "betrayal." Reyna was fixing her relationship with her sister. Leo was settling in – for good it looked like. Piper was gaining weight again. Jason was living up to his dad's name and getting more popular in both worlds. Rachel's ankle was healing (though seeing it still made Percy's sick to his stomach). Grover…well, Percy hadn't needed to protect that friend for a while.

And Annabeth.

Percy's shoulders slumped in shame, and he held the gun a little tighter. Annabeth deserved so, so, _so _much better than him. She should've had a strong, brave boyfriend who could actually _do _something about her nightmares. Not a screwed up demigod with PTSD and highly questionable thoughts running through his head. Not another Luke.

Plus, Percy thought, twirling the gun around in his hands, during the war, the Vulcan and Hephaestus kids had made such high quality weapons. Not to mention a wider variety – explosives, tasers, flame throwers, guns – they didn't stick to just swords and arrows. It'd be almost a shame to not put them to use.

Percy slowly flipped the safety off and raised it to his temple. A life of misery serving ungrateful gods and dying an even worse death was all that was in store for him. Why not just cut to the chase now? He was meant to die exactly one year ago anyways.

Percy's finger rested on the trigger, and he closed his eyes. He fought it. He truly, truly tried. But this was one monster he couldn't just kill with a magical sword.

Rather than a gunshot, a sharp intake of breath and a shocked voice saying, "Percy…" broke the calm, eerie silence of Cabin Three.

Percy was so startled he almost jumped out of his skin. His eyes shot open, and he felt like the Curse of Achilles had been washed off of him all over again. Nine of his friends stood at his door, Rachel, Leo, and Grover's grins were slipping into stunned faces, their holds loosening on the blue and green balloons. Piper was carrying a birthday cake, Thalia, Nico, Jason, and Reyna stood together, twinkling mirth fading from their eyes. And Annabeth stood at the front, grey orbs unbelieving – not _wanting _to believe and underneath, terrified.

But despite it all, the gun didn't even waver. Not even when the blue cake dropped out of Piper's shaking hands onto the cabin floor.

"Percy…" Annabeth's voice wavered, grey eyes frantic but also blank. Like she wasn't sure if what she was seeing was even real or just another dream. That one word was enough to hurt Percy in a way he didn't know was possible.

Leo swallowed, but he forced an uneasy grin. "Hey, man," he said, "What's with the gun?"

Percy didn't think that was even worth answering.

"Percy," Grover started, eyes darkening like his worst suspicion had just been proven right, "come on, put-put it down. Please?"

Jason nodded and took a step forward but put his hands up when Percy's hand tensed around the rifle. "Yeah," he agreed, but his voice cracked a little. "Why don't we just talk, okay?"

Piper struggled to compose herself. "It – no, stop, don't. I'm not going to use my charmspeaking." Her eyes darted to towards the others. "It hasn't been working since…" She breathed out rigidly. "Just let us talk about this. I know none of us are going to judge you, Percy."

Reyna nodded mutely in agreement, face unreadable except for the grim way her jaw was set and the strange, uncharacteristically vulnerable look in her eye like she was an abandoned little girl.

Thalia, who looked completely unfamiliar with the situation, took a few brave steps forward. "Don't be an idiot, Percy," she said but her hands were trembling slightly. "You've gone through all that, defied every single prophecy that said you'd die like the irritating little upstart you are, to just give up _now_?"

Percy, horror gripping his stomach, finally realizing that this was happening, that his friends had actually caught him in a moment of weakness, managed a shaky grin. He pointed the gun away from his head casually. "Don't be an idiot, Thalia," he mimicked, struggling to maintain his easy-going façade. "I wasn't going to pull the trigger."

Judging by everyone's faces, they didn't buy it.

"Really," Percy tried again. "Why would I? I'm fine." His voice cracked, and his friends exchanged brief looks. "Happy even." He hoped no one noticed his eye twitch. "Olympus is safe – again, the world's at peace." Not that it'd actually _stay _that way, he thought cynically.

Leo's fingers tapped against his jeans rapidly, a nervous trait. "You're…" He hesitated before asking cautiously, "You're tired of being the hero?"

Oh. Did he say that last part out loud?

Grover's gaze never left his best friend's face. "That's part of it," he said, shifting from one hoof to another, "but not all."

_Empathy link_, Percy remembered. _Right_. He wondered just how long Grover had known what was really going through his head. The idea made him a little sick, and his fingers tensed against the handle, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by anyone.

Nico did a quick once over the room, looking for some way to shadow travel so he could get closer to Percy and _get the gun away from him_. He knew that what he was about to say was cruel, extremely cruel, but Percy was easily guilt-tripped. "Bianca gave her life for you. The least you can do is tell us why you're suddenly suicidal, Percy."

The reactions of everyone else was expected, sharp looks and shocked eyes because, yeah, he kind of did just ignore the bright neon sign that said DO NOT CROSS THIS LINE. But Percy did start to lower the gun a little.

Annabeth, eyes clear and coherent, took shaky steps forward until she was standing in front of er boyfriend. "This is real," she said softly. "Isn't it?"

When Percy's voice completely failed to work, Annabeth choked at a bitter laugh. With tears in her stormy eyes, she said, "And you _promised_."

The rifle instantly wound up lying on his bed sheets uselessly in favor of embracing his girlfriend, mind flashing back to another time she spoke those words, only with reversed results. Out of the corner of his eyes, Percy was fairly certain he just saw Thalia snatch the gun away and hand it to her brother who promptly crushed it under his combat boots, and staring at the broken weaponry, Percy couldn't really care less. Right now he was just busy trying to reassure Annabeth that he wouldn't be breaking his promise any time soon.

Decorations and birthday cake completely forgotten, his friends hovered closer to him. Thalia rubbed Annabeth's back comfortingly even though the daughter of Zeus knew her friend's pride would probably wind up wounded because of it. Piper and Leo stood behind Jason while Grover and Rachel chose to sit beside Percy instead. Nico and Reyna waited nearer to the opposite wall, but it was obvious they were ready to intervene if needed.

"So," Rachel said after a few minutes of tense silence, deceptively calm, "is this going to be a twenty questions kind of thing, or…"

The words were spilling out before the Oracle could even finish her sentence. He told his friends about his anger and resentment towards the gods, his memories of Tartarus finally coming back to him, how completely out of place he felt in the mortal world, and Percy even confessed how much he wanted to stay strong – for everyone, but just couldn't. Now, after several years filled with pain, sacrifice, and difficult decisions that could alter _everything_, Percy Jackson was falling apart in front of the very people he tried so hard to keep safe, and when he was through, heart completely poured out and darkest thoughts confessed, he fell asleep against his girlfriend's shoulder.

This time it was Reyna who spoke. "I had no idea..." she faltered.

"No. None of us did," Thalia said, eyes tearing away from Percy to her old protector accusingly. "Except Grover."

The satyr reeled back a little, eyes looking sad. "I knew he was upset," he said guiltily.

Piper glanced at him. "So why didn't you say something?"

"It's Percy," Jason stressed, hugging his girlfriend closer to his side. "He'd put his own problems aside to help us with ours." He narrowed his eyes at the floor. "No matter how much it hurt him."

"Then it's our turn," Annabeth said firmly, grey eyes stormy as ever as she met each of her friend's gazes. "Percy's saved each of us more times than we can count. While we've been wallowing in self-pity, he's been putting up a strong face for each of us, even though he..." She trailed off and swallowed. "The least we can do is bethere for him."

One by one, each of the demigods sat around Percy. Piper sat on the floor next to Thalia, cheek pressed lightly against Annabeth's knee and pinky hooked around the knot of Percy's shoes. Leo plopped between Rachel and Grover, and Jason sat behind Percy, back to back. Nico perched himself at the foot of the bed, and only Reyna remained standing, watching the scene with dark, keen eyes.

Knowing what was going through her head, Thalia's eyes bore into the praetor's. "Get over here, Reyna. I don't care if showing a little compassion is weakness to you. Percy needs us." Her eyes flashed. "If you were in his place right now, he'd stay. He'd stay for you."

After a brief look of indecision, Reyna slowly lowered herself at Percy's feet, hair tickling Leo's knee, and they silently waited for the nightmares to come, Annabeth's and Thalia's words ringing in their ears. As usual, the girls were right.

He was always right behind them, picking up the pieces, and saving them even when they weren't on a battlefield anymore. Percy had never let them down. It was their turn to save him.

* * *

The god turned off the recording and paused. He _was _expecting to catch the Heroes of Olympus having fun and celebrating like most teenagers seemed to do, something to make his viewers smile and feel a little light-hearted. But this…

Hephaestus twisted his lips. The definitely wasn't the kind of reality TV he was expecting to get. Percy Jackson, the most famous demigod of this generation, caught on camera attempting to commit suicide. If news got out about it, Olympus would be angered with his frailty. Their greatest hero, dissolved into a broken godling.

Hephaestus clasped his hands in thought. Although, he thought, torn, the boy had a valid reason for wanting to enter Hades's realm so soon. Already, the gods were ignoring their children like mere slaves. He hadn't even realized Leo wasn't truly happy, that his boy blamed himself for disasters he couldn't have helped or prevented.

Olympus _wanted _a feel-good show. But it _needed _this. The truth thrown right back into their face by none other than their own hero.

Besides, Hephaestus added. Needing to be saved by his friends wasn't weakness. Not at all. And if anyone begged to differ, well, there were nine, dangerous friends who all had Percy's back.

(Even Ares would keep his trap shut this time.)

* * *

_**Complete**_


	6. Epilogue

Hephaestus TV was doomed.

That was all there was to it. Ratings would plummet all the way to the pits of Tartarus, angry fanmail would start flooding in any minute now, Olympus would be in an uproar over the new episode, and it would probably have to be canceled due to lack of support.

Hephaestus sighed and sunk back into his chair, already feeling a headache coming on. All those years to get his TV show to where it was now, completely flushed down the drain. Was it worth it? Possibly not. Hephaestus was not nearly as understanding of godly nature as well as mechanics (and human for that matter), but he knew the other Olympians well enough to foresee that their thick skulls wouldn't get the message. Wouldn't sympathize with what the lad had said.

_No wonder Kronos mistook a boulder for Zeus_, Hephaestus mused, fiddling with scrap from a dismantled automan. Olympus, Zeus's head was heard. Hephaestus had to use his own hammer to crack that skull—

The flutter of wings distracted him from his train of thought, and the god didn't need to glance up to know who was there. And why.

"Hephaestus," the newcomer greeted but his normally easy, carefree tone was tense and guarded.

"Hermes." Hephaestus squinted up at him. "Have my supplies arrived so soon?" he asked, trying to stall because, _Gaea_, he was not looking forward to the next few hours.

Hermes smiled, but it was nowhere near even reaching his eyes. "I'm afraid not, Hephaestus. I'm here on a different matter of business."

The crippled god sighed tiredly and snuffed out a flame in his beard, nodding. "Of course, you are," he mumbled.

Hermes straightened a little. "Father has called a meeting. He requests your presence on Olympus along with the rest of the Council." Something flickered in his blue eyes, and Hermes's jaw locked. "'Percy's Birthday' was quite an episode, Hephaestus."

* * *

Tense would be a cute and laughably misleading word to describe the mood in the renovated Hall of the Gods. The air crackled and swirled and darkened, and even up on Olympus, Hephaestus could feel at least a dozen natural disasters brewing.

As the owner of Hepheastus TV made his way to his La-Z-Boy throne, he studied each of the Council members' faces. Dionysus appeared bored, constantly swishing his glass of water (no doubt, originally meant to be wine) around in circles but when violet eyes met Hephaestus's, a look of mild interest flashed across his face. The same reaction could be said for Ares.

Hera was watching him coolly, like a bug she couldn't _wait _to squish, and Hephaestus scowled at her. Aphrodite was wearing her typical stormy grey eyes for him, but she continued to bite her lip when she thought no one was looking and her normally complacent smile was…off. Somehow.

Even Hades had received summons. The god of the dead sat in his new, black throne, eyes and face drawn back and long, slender fingers drumming on the armrest. Demeter's lips were pursed, her brows wrinkled in slight confusion, and Hephaestus had to remind himself that she wouldn't know what in Tartarus was happening because the goddess didn't even watch TV. Something about how unhealthy it was.

Hephaestus settled into his chair, continuing to watch the others. Zeus still appeared to be searching for words anyways. Hermes had put Martha and George on silent and, for once in a long time, seemed to be focused solely on what anyone else had to say. Artemis's silver eyes had an odd glint to them, and Hephaestus found that if he looked closely at Apollo's, his golden ones would match. Athena's face was completely unreadable, as smooth as marble and just as cold. Poseidon's was the perfect opposite and without a doubt, the most expressive out of all them.

The sea god's eyes were a dark, terrifying shade of green, his knuckles were white from either gripping his armrest or trident, and Hephaestus could hear his teeth grinding. Anger flowed off of Poseidon in waves, and the younger god couldn't keep eye contact for more than a few seconds.

"Hephaestus," Zeus started, and the god of forges couldn't decipher the tone of his father's voice. Frankly, Hephaestus couldn't guess what _any _of them were really thinking – minus Poseidon of course. Even for someone as unpredictable as him, the sea god was an open book when it came to his favorite son (it was only a rumor, but Hephaestus wouldn't past him. Poseidon was oddly attached to the boy.)

Zeus opened his mouth to speak again, but his eyes moved away for a second in order to address the entire Council. "My thanks to each of you for attending. I am aware of how untimely and sudden my summons are." He straightened in his throne. "However," he continued, eyes darkening further into a rainy grey, "I fear we have important matters to discuss."

"Zeus?" Demeter prodded when her brother didn't continue right away.

Zeus's eyes bore into the blacksmith's. "Matters concerning Hephaestus TV." His hands curled into fists. "For the sake of those who have not viewed your latest episode, will you be so kind as to replay it for us, Hephaestus?"

* * *

The Hall was deadly silent, the only sounds being made were the crackling of Hestia's fire and the grinding of Poseidon's teeth. Gods either leaned back into their thrones or sat on the edge stiffly, and Hephaestus mentally prepared himself for the arguments to come.

Zeus's eyes were a bright, electric blue humming with energy. "This is horrendous," he stated gravely, not quite losing his temper but not quite keeping it either. "An utter embarrassment. I do hope you will be removing it from your channel, Hephaestus."

The god closed his eyes briefly and breathed out. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't. "Percy's Birthday" was out for all of Olympus to watch now, no take backs. The only person who could possibly stop it now would be Hermes, and even then it'd be too late.

Hephastus shrugged his uneven shoulders, huffing. "I don't see what's wrong with it," he said gruffly. "Half of my show thrives on controversy. Aphrodite and Ares's affairs, Hades and Persephone's marriage, rumors of Demeter's cereal not being organic, conspiracies…" He glanced at the eldest gods quickly. "…Big Three gossip."

Grey eyes narrowed. "This is different," Athena said icily. "This is seeing Percy at his weakest, exposing to all of Olympus both his wavering loyalties…and crumbling sanity."

Poseidon glowered at her, but Athena continued before he could speak. "In exactly forty-two minutes, you have completely destroyed what faith and security Olympus found in Percy Jackson. What if there's another war? Percy said so himself, there's always another enemy. What can Olympus look to for hope now?" She clasped her hands together. "What did you hope to gain in showing the world that the Hero of Olympus is not the perfect hero any longer?"

Hermes stared at Athena with a disbelieving look, and he pointed at her with a trembling finger. "That," he started tightly. "You watched the same exact thing I did, and _that _is what worries you?" Hermes's playful eyes were serious now and just looking into them sent chills down Hephaestus's back.

"Show some compassion," Hermes hissed. "You just saw a seventeen year-old demigod, one you owe your life to, almost kill himself, and you worry about how it will – _strategically _– affect people?"

Artemis raised her chin imploringly. "What about _him_, Athena?"

Hephaestus could practically see the gears in Athena's head moving, working out a way to get out of the hot seat. But before she even spoke, Ares threw his hands up. "The kid's not dead. Isn't that all that really matters here?"

Although Ares was siding with her, Athena wrinkled her nose in distaste. "This isn't a matter of just bloodbath, fool. It affects morale, politics, unity" – she shook her head in disgust – "Percy was practically the Hercules of this generation. Now everything has changed due to one gun, Hephaestus TV, and a broken war hero."

Too late, Athena seemed to have realized her mistake. Poseidon rammed the butt of his trident into the ground. "You forget that my son did not _choose _to be one of the Fates' chess pieces. He did not intend to become an icon. Twice he was dragged into a war. And what thanks has my son gotten?" He sea green eyes held each of their gazes boldly, fury bubbling just below the surface. "What thanks have you given any of your children?"

The Council shifted in their thrones and traded looks. Wherever this was going, it was clear that none of them would enjoy it.

Poseidon stared at Apollo and Aphrodite. "Hal saved a girl using his gift of prophecy, and you punished him. You destroyed his life for being a hero."

Hephaestus stiffened at that and looked on as Apollo, slipped off his sunglasses, normally sky blue eyes a darker tint and face oddly serious. Hephaestus had to remind himself that yes, although his half-brother was immature and rarely took anything seriously other than whatever boy band was popular nowadays, Apollo was still a god. No amount of ridiculous haikus or teeth whitening strips could change that.

Accusations flew out of Poseidon's mouth as he turned to Dionysus, and Hephaestus remembered just how easily riled the old sea god could get. Funny, he had honestly thought Poseidon was mellowing out. Pity.

"You lived at Camp Half-Blood," Poseidon said. "You had a luxury none of us had, but you didn't even care about Castor until he died."

Dionysus smiled tightly, violet eyes flashing. "I wouldn't point fingers so quickly, Uncle," he drawled. "After all, you only claimed Peter because you were getting desperate. Running out of options. He wasn't anything more than a pawn to you at that point, and only after he retrieved Hades's helm and Zeus's bolt did you even acknowledge him as a son."

Poseidon opened his mouth to counter the wine god's word, but found with a sickening, guilty admittance that his nephew was right. Instead, he took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. The other Olympians watched quietly as the sea god slowly and eerily calmed himself. "I admit my wrongdoing. But I do not regret my words," he said finality.

Martha and George slithered along Hermes's iPhone, hissing things only their master could hear, and Hermes nodded almost imperceptibly. "Nor should you," Hermes said to Poseidon. He stared down at his winged feet. "We've ignored our children for far too long."

Aphrodite swallowed but didn't lose her composure. "I wasn't aware that Piper…had I known…"

Hermes nodded again. "My point exactly. Each of our children have suffered at one point." He gave Poseidon an open, completely understanding look. "Some more than others. And although we can't always be there for our children and help them, we could've spared Percy some of his troubles." A small smile played at Hermes's lips, he gave Hephaestus a sidelong glance. "To answer your question from earlier, Athena, I believe Hephaestus aired it in order to get a point across."

A few threw him a questioning look.

"You needed to hear it," Hephaestus said, crossing his arms. "You wouldn't've listened to me, but to the lad…" He tilted his head. "Well, as I recall, he's managed to sway the Council on more than a few occasions."

Hermes took over again, bringing them back to the matter at hand. "I can't say anything about spending more time with our children and bonding with them. Gaea knows I can't tell you how to aren't them, but I do expect your children to move out of my cabin by tonight."

From his dark throne, Hades finally spoke. "I agree with Hermes and Hephaestus. And Poseidon, I suppose," he added as an afterthought. Others nodded in union, even Athena herself couldn't help but be swayed. A feat Hephaestus would have to applaud later because Hades was looking at Zeus, his dark eyes challenging. "Well, brother, what is your verdict?"

Zeus pursed his lips, clearly not appreciating Hades's tone of voice or Poseidon's watchful gaze, but nevertheless, he said solemnly, "We made an oath. A reward Percy Jackson paid for with much effort and sacrifice, and we are honor bound to keep it."

"And what of the children?" Hera asked.

"Father," Athena started, "we cannot come at their every beck and call. Heroes must make their own paths and fight their own battles. It is what makes them stronger, wiser. If we coddle them whenever they stub a toe or suffer mistreatment in the mortal world, then we've already broken them."

Although reluctant, the Olympians didn't make any move to argue. Athena's words rang true. Despite all of Chiron's training and godly blood running through each of their children's veins, it ultimately wired down to the half-bloods whether they became heroes…or not.

"Understood," Zeus said slowly, weighing his daughter's words. He shared a secret look with each of his brothers that was too quick and guarded for Hephaestus to decipher. "But that does not restrain us from watching. It never has."

There was so much to do. So much hate mail to rifle through, so many things to repair, so any duties to attend to, but Hephaestus and the other Olympians didn't leave. Martha and George remained on silent, Apollo's iPod and Aphrodite's mirror lay unused on their armrests, Dionysus's wine magazine was folded up and tossed over his shoulder, and even Ares had put his sword away, though he glared at anyone who gave him questioning looks and told them to stop staring or else he'd take it right back out and do something he wouldn't regret. But no one bothered to call him out on his bluff. No one even bothered to say anything.

For once in a long, long, _long _time, the fourteen most powerful beings sat together in silence, no petty quarrels to be had or serious matters to be discussed. They all sat diligently, watching Camp Half-Blood from above, even the ones without children because.

_Percy Jackson_, Hephaestus mused. _Lad's constantly altering customs and laws up here. Though I can't complain. _His pressed his lips together in thought as he watched Leo light his hair on fire, eliciting a surprised laugh from a girl with dark hair. _You might just make us a family yet._

(Cautiously glancing to his left and right, Hephaestus shut his eyes and claimed his two children.)

* * *

**I wasn't planning on making this, but since you all asked so nicely, I couldn't resist.**

**Posting my next story might be a little slow because I don't have any of Rick Riordan's books to compare to so I can make sure my fanfics aren't clashing with his plot, and I'm working on my own story and doing school, but I'll try to finish writing the first chapter of "Accidental Heartbreaks." It'll be focusing on Rachel, Reyna, and Calypso (probably Annabeth too) and how they each fell for Percy.**

**Thanks for reading.**


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